


Pirate's Apprentice

by moodwriter



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1343017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/pseuds/moodwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy wants to be a pirate. He ends up being something else on board Captain Lambert's ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've sat on this fic for a long time. I thought that it would be an original story, but I wrote it with their names and faces. I guess it's time to let it out. :) I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> The lovely @aislinntlc is betaing this fic too. She's so so good to me. <3

Tommy sees his chance immediately. It’s either that barrel and this ship or the mines, and he’s going to sail out of this god forsaken city if it’s the last thing he does. He doesn’t really care if it _is_ the last thing he ever does as long as he gets to see everything. He’s smelled the sea as long as he can remember, but he’s never been on a ship, and this one... it’s a catch. 

He wants on board. 

The crew is loading, and they’re not expecting little rabbits. The hustle and bustle of the docks gives Tommy enough cover, and soon he’s able to sneak into one of the barrels. He’s small, and he’s light. Hopefully they won’t notice. 

The barrel smells weird, making him want to sneeze, his nose itching, and there's something powdery under him. He had to take off a sack full of something to fit in, and he hopes it wasn't anything expensive. He's heard stories. He knows how ruthless these men can be, but it's better to die at sea than to rot in the mines. 

Someone lifts the barrel, and Tommy nearly knocks his head against it, losing his balance, but he manages to take hold of the sides and steady himself. 

He _is_ afraid. He can't even swim. If they throw him overboard he'll drown, but he wants to believe it'll be worth it. Nothing can be worse than what he escaped. 

The trip to the ship is bouncy, and it makes him a little dizzy. Then he's put down and left in the ship’s hold with the rest of the cargo. He can hear the sea around him, the not-so-solid feel of it making him excited. 

He's on a ship. 

Tommy tried to offer his services. He wanted to be a cabin boy or a powder monkey, anything that would take him far away, but nobody was hiring. They already had full crews, and one more mouth to feed wasn't what they were looking for. 

He's been starving on the streets of Port Royal for two weeks, and this is his ticket out of hell. His golden opportunity, like Isaac would call it, the moment his luck will finally turn. 

Tommy's not stupid. He knows he'll probably end up dead. Pirates don't treat stowaways with gentle hands. But he hopes they won't find him before they are at open sea. He's heard that drowning isn't such a bad way to go if you don't fight it too much, if you just lie back and let go, relax. 

It takes forever for anything to happen, and when it's been quiet long enough, Tommy peeks from under the lid. It's dark, and he can't see much, but the coast seems to be clear. He moves the lid out of the way and scrambles out of the barrel. His legs and back are stiff, and he almost falls over. For a few dreadful seconds, he thinks they're going to rush in and kill him because he's made too much noise. He stands absolutely still, waiting, but nothing happens. 

The ship smells of tar and hay and dust and the sea. He breathes in deep, keeping his eyes closed for a second. He hopes he can enjoy this a little while longer. 

He realizes the barrel was half full of flour, and now he's covered in it, his sweaty skin sucking it all in. Tommy tries to wipe it away, but it just becomes sticky and clumpy, like he's peeling off parts of his skin. He wants to clean himself with a cloth, but that won't be happening anytime in the near future. He's stuck with this stuff. 

He's been standing there out in the open for too long. He needs to find a hiding place, preferably somewhere where he can actually see something. Since this is going to be his last trip he's making the most of it. 

Tommy hides behind a few of the larger crates and barrels until the ship starts moving, then he gets up and finds his way out.

The sun was already setting when he sneaked into the barrel, and now it's nearly dark. It's weird how everything is so much darker at sea where there are no lanterns to light the way. He moves quickly and quietly - a trick he learned at a young age because surviving depended on it - staying in shadows, listening carefully. He can hear laughter and music, and it's weird even though he's heard about ships that have their own entertainment. 

Tommy knows there's someone always watching so he stays low, stays hidden, and then he just stares at the darkness, feels the movement of the sea and the ship, their shallow dance, and lets himself dream. 

He's startled wide awake by someone who grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him to his feet. Tommy can't even stand properly, and he's flailing with his arms, letting out a squeaky scared sound. 

"What are you?" the man asks, his face so close to Tommy's he can't even tell what the man looks like. He can smell his breath, though, and it's not a nice smell. 

"A Tommy?" he says, wincing because his feet aren't touching the ground anymore. 

It's early morning, mist still everywhere, and he can't believe anything so peaceful can be disturbed by a person like this.

"A what?" the man asks, and there's a hint of amusement in his voice. "The captain won't like a smart ass."

Who is this guy? The quartermaster? He hopes he hasn't ruined his chances completely. He can do all kinds of things, and maybe if he'd gotten a chance to show them how skillful he is they would've let him stay. Now, he's just a useless rat. 

The man carries Tommy over the main deck, then knocks on the door of the captain’s cabin with his free hand. It takes awhile for anything to happen, but then the door opens, and Tommy tilts his head back to see who's the captain of the ship, who's going to decide his destiny. 

The captain is tall, dark, and ruthless-looking. There's nothing forgiving about him, and Tommy swallows down his fear. He's going to die a very painful death. 

"We have a rat," the man holding Tommy says. 

There's a flicker of interest on the captain's face when he looks at Tommy from head to toe (his feet are still not touching the ground), but it's brief and almost like a lie, gone so fast Tommy doubts his eyes. Then the captain turns to look at the man and says, "Call the men on deck. They can have their entertainment." 

There are probably sharks in the sea, and monsters, and flesh-eating piranhas. Tommy groans unwillingly. 

He is that entertainment, and when the men gather around their captain and the quartermaster (Tommy is pretty sure the enormous black man who hasn't let go of him is in fact the second in command) it's made clear that they want this to hurt. 

"What's your name, boy?" the captain asks while someone ties a rope around his ankles. 

"Tommy Joe, Sir." He's surprised he can still speak. 

"And what's your business here?" 

The rope feels harsh against his skin, so harsh he's almost bleeding already because he's trying to wiggle his feet. He'll attract all those sharks. 

He looks at the captain, then at his feet, and then the captain again. "I'm an orphan. I have nowhere else to go."

"Why us?" 

"Because your ship is beautiful." He's staring at the wide open sea. The ship is moving forward slowly, and he knows what they are going to do to him. The rope is going under the ship, and there’s only one use for it now. 

He’s heard stories about keelhauling, of the barnacles attached to the hull, of how people have lost limbs while being dragged under the ship. 

Now he regrets his decision to come on board. He could’ve handled a quick death, even a little torture, maybe drowning, too, but this makes him shiver. 

Tommy looks at the captain. “I’ve smelled the sea all my life. I just wanted to feel it, too.”

There’s a pause when nothing happens. The wind blows. A distant bird screams. Tommy holds his breath. 

“What can you do?” the captain finally asks. 

“Read. Write. Cook. Clean. Sew. I can fight, too.” He swallows hard. 

“Can you now?” The captain grabs his chin, tilts his head from side to side. “And are you any good in the sack?”

Tommy stares at him, his heart jumping with fear. “I can try,” he says quietly, sounding as scared as he feels. “I’m a quick learner,” he adds, hopeful.

The captain turns to look at his crew. “What’s the price he has to pay to stay?”

He hears words like _birching_ and _caning_ , but cat o’ nine tails gets most of the votes, and he looks around, trying to figure out what that means. The big guy has been holding him up by his waist, but now he puts Tommy down. Someone removes the rope from around his ankles, and then he’s pushed towards one of the three masts. The quartermaster ties his wrists and lifts them up to a hook, his back to the onlookers. 

Then they show him what the cat is: a multi-tailed whip. He’s not going to enjoy this, but it’s still better than keelhauling. 

There’s even a drum roll, but Tommy can barely hear it because of the blood rushing in his ears. His lips are dry, his shoulders aching already because his feet aren’t touching the ground properly. 

He feels someone behind him, and when he looks back it’s the captain. “Do you want the cat?” There’s a hand sliding down his back. “Or the pussy?” The hand squeezes his ass, and he bites his lips to hold in the squeak. 

When he doesn’t say anything the captain leans closer, whispering in his ear, “You don’t know what it means?” 

He shakes his head. He’s familiar with many types of corporal punishment, but he’s never been introduced to the cat. 

“You can be a man, or you can be a boy. Risk the pain and tearing of skin with the nine-tailed whip, or the humiliation of your bare bottom and the lighter slashes of the five-tail.” The captain grabs his hair and tilts his head back. “Which one is it going to be?”

Tommy knows about infections. If he gets one here he’ll most likely die. Besides, he is a boy. “The pussy,” he says. 

The captain laughs along with his crew, then pulls Tommy’s pants down. “Then pussy you’ll get.”

It’s the quartermaster who does the whipping, and the five-tail is not gentle either. It’s not tearing off his skin, but it makes him whine after a while even though he tries to stay strong. He’s holding onto the rope, straining his back, trying to prepare himself for each slash, but he can’t. It’s too raw. 

The drum roll quiets down, and he hopes it’s over, but the captain just wipes his hair off his sweaty face and gives him a drink of water. He’s wailing now because they’re going to make it last, and he won’t be able to take it. 

He bites his arm when the whip hits him again, and then he loses all sense of time because it just won’t stop, and he’s about to pass out. He’s happy he chose to be a boy, though, because he doesn’t even want to know how the cat would feel. 

When it’s over he’s left there for a while, and he hovers close to unconsciousness the whole time he’s hanging there. They don’t even pull up his pants. 

Then finally an older man with a wooden leg releases him and helps him under the deck to the sleeping quarters of the crew. There’s a hammock for him, and he lies on his stomach, whining low in his throat, trying to be quiet because he doesn’t want to pull anyone’s attention to himself. 

“You’ll start working tomorrow,” the old man says, leaving him to his own devices. 

Tommy lies still, trying not to think about his backside and how in flames it is. He won’t be sitting for a while. He also feels a little triumphant. He's on a ship, and the crew knows about it, and they didn't throw him overboard. He calls that a success, and Isaac would be so proud of him. 

He listens to the sea, listens to the noises the men make above him, and he can't stop the smile. He'll be a pirate. He'll sail all the seas in the world. He's heard about Europe, and he knows about the Spanish. He wants to see everything. 

He moves, and his backside reminds him of its existence again. It hurts like hell, and he wonders if he'll get an infection anyway. This is a big ship with a big crew. They should have a surgeon. But it's possible the captain or the quartermaster would let him die anyway. Tommy tilts his head back, then pushes his pants down to see how bad his skin looks. It's red with stripes, but it looks like there's no blood, and he sighs in relief. 

His abused skin brings to his mind the captain's words about whether he's any good in the sack, and he quickly pulls his pants back up, blushing furiously. Tommy hopes it was just talk because the little experience he has hasn't been so nice, and he'd prefer getting his first proper experiences with a woman with a big bosom. Maybe someone a little older, someone who knows how to make him feel good. 

The idea of the surly captain is not that appealing. Sex with him might be painful and humiliating too. 

Tommy tries to sleep, but he can't find a good position in the hammock. He feels small there and a little afraid too because he's left everything he knows behind. He doesn't know any of these people. He doesn't even know their names. He misses Isaac and Mia. He misses the kitchen of the orphanage. He even misses solid ground after a while because he's starting to get seasick. 

His skin is sticky with flour and sweat, and his stomach is growling. 

It's possible he's never been this miserable in his life. 

He gets up because he needs to see where he is, needs the proof. He hasn't been dreaming, and if he can see the sky and the vast emptiness, maybe he won't feel like this anymore. 

Tommy sneaks up on the deck, and is surprised by how dark it already is. He must have passed out for a while at some point because time has flown by. Someone grunts at him, and he realizes that it was a word: the galley. Everyone is there, eating. 

Tommy looks at the man with questioning eyes, and there's a sparse amount of words to guide him there. He follows the instructions and then the laughter and music guides him the rest of the way. 

He's hungry like a wolf, but he's afraid to ask for anything. He hasn't yet done anything to deserve food. 

“Come ‘ere, boy,” a man without his front teeth says, patting a place next to him. “We want to see you sit.”

Everyone in the mess laughs, and he’s surprised to see the captain there too, eating and laughing with them. Someone is playing the violin, and there are two people on a makeshift stage, having a heated argument that seems to be faked. Tommy hasn’t seen theater before, but he’s guessing this is it. It’s not very entertaining if anyone asks him. 

He hesitates too long, and the man starts to look impatient. “If you want to eat you sit.” 

Tommy hurries to the seat, then tries to sit carefully, but the man pulls him down, and Tommy bites his tongue to hold in the cry. That hurt. 

The food is some kind of a meat pie, and it’s actually good. Anything would be heavenly right now because the last warm meal he had was maybe three weeks ago. He’s lost count. 

“So, tell us something about yourself,” the toothless man says, pouring him a drink.

That surprises him. He wasn’t expecting interest, and he has no idea what he should say. _I’m sixteen, I’ve always wanted to be a sailor, and I just escaped the slow death in the mines._ That isn’t interesting at all. 

“Have you seen a woman’s bosom, boy?” the quartermaster asks, and everyone laughs again, hitting their tin cups against the table. 

“No,” he says. “But I’ve been spanked by a pretty lass.”

That earns him a few snorts. 

“I’m Tommy Joe, and I’ve never wanted to be anything but a sailor.”

“How old are you?” the quartermaster asks, licking meat juices off his fingers. 

“Sixteen, Sir.”

"I'm no Sir, kid. You can call me Monk. I'm the quartermaster, and if you have any problems on board you come to me." Monk stares him down, and he nods, chewing with his mouth closed. "That ratface next to you is Blane, he's the master gunner. The cook who took you below deck is Tylesby, but everyone calls him Ty, and our captain here is Adam. The rest can introduce themselves when you work with them. Welcome aboard."

Tommy swallows, coughing, then quickly says, "Thanks."

The captain sets his drink down, staring at Tommy. "There's eighty-seven of us, and if you stay after the next port we'll be an even number. Prove yourself useful there, and we'll take you with us."

"I will," he says, determined and not caring one bit how cocky he sounds. He's been useful all his life. 

"You'll be my cabin boy for now," the captain says. "That doesn't mean I'm the only one who can give you orders. You listen to them, and you do what they say, and we'll be getting along just fine."

Tommy nods. He'd do anything to keep this position now. 

"Have you fired a cannon?" Monk asks, and Tommy shakes his head. "Been in a battle? Tied knots? Killed someone? What have you done?"

Desperation burns his lungs. "I've been in bar fights. I'm handy. I'm not new to carpentry either."

A head rises at the next table. "You know how to use tools?" the man with a black beard asks. 

"We had to fix things all the time at the orphanage. I can carve things too." He sounds so hopeful it's embarrassing. 

"We'll see tomorrow how much you've been lying," Monk says with a finality to his words that indicates the conversation is over. 

He's not good at any of those things, but he knows a little bit of everything because he's curious. He can't help it. 

The rest of the meal is quiet to Tommy because nobody engages him in conversation, but he doesn't mind. He wants to learn the rules of this ship before he starts initiating any contact. He wants to be aware of the hierarchy, of the relations between the sailors, who's who and who decides about what. Sometimes things aren't what they seem. Like in the orphanage it wasn't the headmaster who ruled the place, but the nun who beat knowledge into their little heads with the fear of hell fire and dreadful revenge. She made sure they learned everything about the good lord. Every single thing. And if they didn't they were sorry. 

Tommy had made the mistake of trusting what was common knowledge, who was in charge, and he paid the price for it. Here, he won't make the same mistake. If the captain and the quartermaster share the power then he has to be on both their sides, and if there is someone else with hidden power he has to find a way to get on their good side too. 

When the meal is over, the music stops and the actors leave the stage, and everyone starts to move out of the mess hall. Tommy gets up to leave with everyone else, but Adam grabs his elbow. "You're coming with me."

Tommy's heart does frantic little leaps, but he follows Adam without a word. Some of the crew members comment on it, make him feel like a dog on a leash, a slave, and he tries to block his ears from their rude remarks. He knows what's going to happen without them making it obvious. 

 

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

At the captain's cabin, Adam releases Tommy’s arm, then takes off his own jacket, and goes to a washbowl to wipe his face and neck clean with a cloth. Tommy just stares because he's never seen anything so posh, not even the headmasters office was this expensive-looking. There are candles lit everywhere, and the red velvet of the chairs around the table and on the bed make Tommy squirm. He couldn't even sit on those. 

He looks at his white, flour-covered skin, and wonders if the captain would let him clean up too. 

"You can wipe that... what is it even... off your skin if you want to," the captain says, drying his hands with a towel, kicking off his shoes. 

Shoes are expensive, and Tommy stares at the black boots for a moment, unable to tear his eyes off. 

"Any time now." 

The impatience in the captain's voice startles him into movement, and he goes to the cabinet that's holding the washbowl. It's absolutely heavenly to clean that nasty flour off his skin, and he sighs, unaware of the captain staring at him. Tommy notices it when the captain says, "You're here for two reasons: because I rarely meet people who make me want them, and because the quartermaster thinks you'll be valuable to us. This part," Adam takes hold of his jaw, "would have gotten you to the next port, but you being valuable... If you can do half the things you said, you might get a portion of the next loot."

Tommy swallows hard. The captain is only a little shorter without his shoes, but he's still over a head taller than Tommy. It's intimidating. Especially since he's never done this before. "Don't hurt me too much," he says so quietly it's barely audible. 

Adam leans closer, whispering in his ear, "I won't hurt you at all."

He blinks, even more afraid now. He doesn't know what to expect. He knows pain. He's friends with pain. This is something new. 

"Unless you fight, then I might hurt you a little."

Tommy's panting now, too scared to even think.

"But if you behave," Adam grabs his hair and tilts his head back, "I'm going to make you feel."

He doesn't know what to do with his hands, and they are just useless weights at his sides, but he feels like he should do something, make something happen because this is too much, too intense.

There's no need to do anything because Adam pulls him close and noses his cheek and ear and neck, biting and kissing his skin, and it feels so weird. Tommy tries to hold still, but he's not used to this. It's surreal, and he takes hold of Adam's arms, needing something that will keep him on his feet. Adam hums, satisfied with the touch, and Tommy closes his eyes, hoping that this will be over soon. 

"Do you know why you're fascinating?" Adam asks before biting his earlobe a bit too hard. 

Tommy gasps, then thinks of words because he needs to answer a question. "Why?"

"Because even when you're desperate your mind keeps ticking. People beg. You bargain."

"I want to survive," he says breathlessly, Adam's tongue swiping his ear. 

Adam makes a low agreeing sound in his throat and tilts Tommy's head back with force, biting his exposed throat. "You're good at that."

He tries to think how to survive this. His heart is still beating fast because of fear, but the things Adam is doing also make him shiver, make his knees weak. "Please... I don't... I've never..."

"It's okay." Adam kisses the side of his mouth, both of his hands in Tommy's hair, holding him in place. 

None of it is okay. He doesn't even know how to control his breathing. Even when he touches himself he never feels like this, like he's about to lose parts of himself if he doesn't get some release. 

Adam takes a fistful of his hair and twists, hurting him, while his other hand travels down their bodies to Tommy's cock. He's half-hard, and when Adam's warm palm grabs him through the pants he whimpers, trying to tilt his head back, but Adam is holding him too hard. 

It's incredibly mind-numbing, and he never loses his ability to think. Now, he's close. "Please..."

"That's right," Adam says next to his cheek. "Beg." Adam lifts Tommy's leg onto his waist, pulls him so close there's nothing between them, holds him there while he moves, suggestive, demanding. 

He puts his arms around Adam's neck because his balance is weak, and then they are kissing, Adam's tongue in his mouth, needy and dominant, and Tommy holds onto him, feeling blind, left in the darkness. 

"You're a quick learner," Adam says when he pulls back to watch Tommy. 

"I... try," he manages to say, his voice raw. 

Adam lifts him up entirely, guiding his legs around his waist. "Hold on," he says before kissing Tommy again. 

Tommy tries to move against the hard length of Adam's cock, rolling his hips, and Adam groans into his mouth. That makes him feel powerful, and he tries it again and again, and then Adam is pushing him against the wall, something flying off the nearby table. "Oh my god," Adam whispers in his hair, then thrusts against him, hard, making him hurt in a good way, making him want more. 

Tommy touches Adam's face because he feels like he can, kissing his cheek and jaw, then his mouth. He bites Adam's lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, and Adam seems to like that because his movements become more frantic. 

Adam's hands are everywhere, finding bare skin, pushing Tommy's shirt up and over his head, then grabbing the hem of his own. Adam's blood runs hot because his skin feels like flames against Tommy's. He's never had this much naked skin touching his own, and he stops breathing for a moment, too overwhelmed. 

"I love how you respond to me," Adam says, biting his cheek, then licking the skin there. "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

Of course he's sure. He can't help how easy it is to react to something Adam does. It feels like there's an invisible connection between Adam's hands and Tommy's body. He's a puppet. He nods, then buries his face in Adam's neck, crying out because Adam rubs against him, slow and deliberate, and it feels too good. 

Then Adam's hands are under his ass, and he gets carried to the bed. Adam throws him there, following quickly before Tommy is able to settle himself after his aching backside hits the bed, and Adam grabs his legs and turns him on his stomach. That makes his heart thud again, and he muffles the noises he makes with a pillow, holding onto the edges of it with tight fists. 

Adam licks his spine, then pulls off his pants with one swift motion, and Tommy is completely naked, his ass up and his head down. 

"That must have hurt," Adam says, stroking his thighs, then his bare ass, the touches surprisingly gentle. They still make Tommy wince.

He's embarrassed, too, because he's a skinny boy with an even skinnier ass, and he can't really understand why Adam is fancying him. 

Adam kisses his lower back, bites his ass cheek, and then licks his balls. That feels weird and exciting, and Tommy squirms. He doesn't know what he wants, but it all feels good, and he wants more. Adam leaves him for a second, then comes back with a bottle of something that turns out to be olive oil. 

"Now, be still. This might hurt a little at first." Adam sounds aroused and impatient, and Tommy turns to look at him over his shoulder. Adam pats his ass lightly where there aren't any whip marks. "Relax."

How can he relax when Adam is clearly going to put something inside him? Then he feels Adam's finger swiping over his asshole, and he tenses, scared. Adam's other hand strokes his spine, careful and slow, and it makes Tommy lie down and spread his legs more. 

Adam laughs. "You're such a pretty little slut." Then Adam pushes a finger inside him, and it's the weirdest feeling, and Tommy tries to get away from it, but Adam grabs his waist and holds him there. "Stay still." 

He tries to, but it's hard. He grabs at the duvet, twisting his fist, and he can't stop panting, his mind shattering. 

Adam moves the finger inside him slowly, pushing it all the way in, then pulling it almost out. "I'll stretch you nice and slow. Don't worry."

Tommy remembers how big Adam felt against him, and he's grateful for this, for Adam being so good to him. He can't even think anymore. He's just hoping that when Adam penetrates him he'll be able to take it, that his mind will hold too. 

There's more pressure against his hole, and he whines, then bites the pillow. It has to be a second finger, and it's too much. He tries to tell that to Adam, but then Adam touches something inside him, and he shivers, losing it, babbling something even he can't understand. 

"Good?" Adam does it again, and Tommy spreads his legs more, moving with Adam's fingers, breathing hard. 

The third finger burns, but it feels good too, and he doesn't know how it's possible to feel so much discomfort and pleasure at the same time. He tries to tell Adam that he can't, that he has to get off, that something has to change or he'll stop existing. 

"Shhhh..." Adam whispers in his ear, pulling his fingers out slowly. "You're doing great." Adam turns Tommy's face enough to kiss him, and when he does he also pushes the head of his cock inside Tommy. 

It hurts, and he tenses, groaning, tears in his eyes. "It's okay," Adam says close to his ear, his whole weight now on top of Tommy, his hands finding Tommy's and pulling them close. "You can take me."

He wills his body to relax, and when Adam starts to push again, it's easier, not so painful, and Tommy breathes through it. 

It takes Adam a while to get all the way in, and he stops every time Tommy tenses in pain or fear, holding him, kissing the side of his head, and then when Tommy relaxes he moves again, thrusts forward. It becomes good so unexpectedly, Tommy almost lets out a cry of pleasure. After that, he concentrates on holding the rest of the sounds in because it's a ship full of men, and he doesn't want them to hear him, but he can't stay quiet for long. Can't, no matter how much he tries. 

Adam gets on his knees once he's sheathed inside Tommy, pulling Tommy's thighs as close to his own as he can, and then he starts fucking Tommy, the thrusts harsh and quick and maddening, and Tommy can't stop panting. Adam's hands are sliding over his skin, even the abused part of his ass, but Tommy doesn't mind. The pain mixes perfectly with the pleasure, and all he can do is take it.

Tommy has to put his hands against the head of the bed because Adam’s thrusts move him forward, and he’s soon almost hitting his head against it. That gives him leverage, and he can push back, can meet Adam halfway, and the reward he gets for that is Adam petting his lower back. It feels too good, and he moans low and long, not trying to hide the sound anymore. 

“You...” Adam says, and Tommy wants to hear the rest of that sentence, wants to know what Adam thinks of this, of him, if he’s doing everything right, if it’s good enough, and then he feels Adam lying on top of him, most of his weight still on one arm when the other sneaks under Tommy, his hand grabbing Tommy’s cock. 

He wasn’t expecting that, and this time he cries out so loud everyone must hear him. He’s moaning into the pillow so ready to come it’s torture, Adam moving inside him relentlessly, pushing in, but not pulling out much at all, just grinding into Tommy. 

“Please...” Tommy mumbles, and Adam bites his shoulderblade, and that throws him over the edge, makes him come, makes him shake in Adam’s hold, no control left at all. 

When he can think again he realizes Adam is still fucking him, both his arms holding Tommy down, boxing him in, making him take it, and he distantly realizes there’s come in his hair. Then Adam pushes two of his come-slick fingers inside Tommy’s mouth, touching his tongue, spreading his lips. Adam goes tense on top of him, groaning, kissing the side of Tommy’s head, holding him so tight it almost hurts. 

They are sweaty, and Adam is really heavy, but right now Tommy couldn’t move even if the ship was on fire. He can’t even feel his legs yet. 

“So...” Adam says, kissing his ear. “How was your first time?”

He’s breathless, and Adam’s fingers are still stuffed in his mouth. He’s not able to speak at all. Adam laughs close to his ear when Tommy tries to make words happen anyway. 

“You did good,” Adam says, pulling his fingers out, but staying buried in Tommy otherwise. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

Tommy tries to stay relaxed, but those words make him tense, his blood rushing in his ears. “What’re you going to do?” he asks, soft and frightened. 

“Fuck you again and again and again until you can’t walk.” Adam bites his neck, then licks it, long swipes of his tongue making Tommy tilt his head to the side to give him better access. 

“I can’t walk now either,” he says quietly. 

“I know.” Adam moves a little, and it’s clear he’s not going to pull out of Tommy at all. He’s going to wait until he’s ready to go again. 

“Oh...” He’s blushing for some reason, his face hot. He hides it into the pillow.

“Yeah,” Adam says, moving lazily, still half-hard or getting hard again. Tommy can’t tell because he’s too dazed. “You’re going to feel it longer than these.” Adam pushes a hand between their bodies, his thumb caressing Tommy’s abused skin. 

He whines, hurting. 

"The noises you make..." Adam kisses a trail down his spine, then bites the back of his neck. "I want to see your face this time." Adam maneuvers Tommy so that Adam doesn't even slip out of him, and soon he's lying on his back, Adam between his thighs. He wraps his legs around Adam's waist and squeezes with his thighs. Adam laughs, then whispers against his lips, "You're full of imagination, kid."

"Tommy," he says, or tries to say, but Adam thrusts against him experimentally, and the word dies on his lips.

"Tell me how it feels?" Adam says, his hands in Tommy's hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat. "Tell me how it feels to be full, to be fucked."

Tommy bites his lower lip. He's making a tiny sound, pain-pleasure burning him. He tries to find words. "Like I might die," he finally confesses, and Adam buries himself deep in him, staying there, staring at Tommy. "What about this?"

"I can't..." He cries out, arching his back. 

"Tommy..." Adam bites his chin. "Speak to me."

"I don't want you to stop. That's how it feels. Please don't stop. Please."

Adam moves, rolling his hips, staring at Tommy the whole time, his eyes intense. 

Tommy reaches out and touches the side of Adam's head, his other hand taking hold of Adam's waist, his nails digging into his skin. 

This makes him feel vulnerable for some reason: Adam staring at him, moving on top of him, fucking into him, slower than before. It makes him shiver all over, makes him want to hide, and he closes his eyes. 

Adam kisses him then, changes the pace, makes it even slower, and it's too gentle to be real. Tommy takes hold of Adam's head and pulls him down, holds him as close as he can because he can't stand eyes on him, because he can't take this unless Adam is too close, so close it's uncomfortable. He can barely breathe, but it's better. He wraps his arms tight around Adam, his fingers at the nape of Adam's neck, in his hair, digging into his shoulders, and Adam keeps moving, pulling out, pushing in, and Tommy can't understand how it makes him feel, how nothing feels the same as before. He doesn't feel like himself at all, and he's shaking, shaking, shaking. There are fucking tears in his eyes, and to hold back the emotions he bites Adam's shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and then he's shattering, his mind completely gone, only his body still feeling more than it's felt before. He doesn't know how long the orgasm lasts, but it leaves him breathless, weightless, mindless, and he just lies there, completely out of it. 

When it's over Adam rolls off of him, and just lies there next to him, panting. Tommy feels cold, but he can't move. He can smell sex, and he feels used and abused, but he's so satisfied he can't care. His ass feels weird, too, but he doesn't dare to touch himself, and even if he did he probably couldn't. His brain is not yet connected to any part of his body. 

"That's enough for now," Adam says after a while, his voice steady. He yawns, then adds, "You can sleep there." He points at the floor close to the door where there's a blanket waiting for Tommy. 

His heart sinks because he doesn't want to move, because he feels like something else should have happened right now. But this is what's happening now so he slowly gets to a sitting position, wincing because his whole body aches, then gets his feet on the ground, and pulls himself up. "I could go sleep with the crew," he says slowly. He misses the hammock already. 

"Stay here," is all he gets. 

Tommy takes hold of the wall and walks slowly to his sleeping spot. He's had worse. At least there's a blanket. He wraps it around himself, and it's big enough for hiding him from head to toe. He sighs. It even smells good. Something soft hits his head, and he soon realizes it's a pillow. He pulls it under his head, turning his back to the bed, but he mutters, "Thank you." before the captain blows out the candles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post this now because I have so much to do before the trip to Japan, and I need the next two weeks for real life thingsies. So the next one after this will come out in two weeks. I hope you enjoy this. <3


	3. Chapter 3

Tommy wakes up to a weird smell. He’s aching all over, his backside is sticky, and there’s dried come on his inner thighs. It’s not the best feeling to wake up to. 

He hasn’t moved at all during the night so he’s still staring at the wall. He feels small there, huddled in a corner, and it’s a lonely miserable feeling. He wants to shake it off, but it seems that right now, it’s here to stay. 

“If you’re awake you should get up and eat something. The quartermaster is waiting for you, and he’s not happy with lazy kids.”

Tommy bites his lip so he won’t say anything back, then gets up, looking for his clothes. He finds them folded on a chair, and he puts them on as quickly as he can. 

“Keep it clean here,” the captain says tersely. “You’ll be busy out there but find time to clean, too.”

“Yes, Sir,” Tommy says, sitting down at the table, taking bread and meat from the plates. Then, for the first time, he looks at what the captain is doing. There’s a pistol on the table in front of him, and a small metal bottle full of something that has that odd smell he woke up to. He’s never seen a fancy weapon like that, and he is curious. It looks modern, brand new, something that has been polished lovingly. 

“Meet Grace,” the captain says, showing the pistol to Tommy. He doesn’t dare to touch, but he stares at it with keen eyes. “She’s saved my life quite a few times."

Tommy takes a bite of his bread, watching as the captain starts cleaning the gun again, his actions precise, and it's clear he’s done this often. 

"Do you know how to shoot?" 

"I haven't even held a gun." He doesn't feel himself very useful admitting that, but he can't lie about this. The captain would only have to ask him to fire once, and he'd be screwed. 

"What about a sword? Do you know how to handle one?" 

Tommy swallows. "I've played with sticks..." He knows how bad that sounds. He's a boy trying to play the game of men. 

The captain stares at him hard. "You said you can fight. Was that a lie?"

"No," Tommy says quietly. 

"Okay." The captain stands, taking a step away from the table. "Show me. Try to hit me." 

Tommy puts his unfinished piece of bread on the square plate, giving it one last mournful look, then gets up, stalking closer to the captain. "I'm small," he says. "So I fight dirty. Do you want me to do this for real?" 

Adam smirks. "Impress me."

He goes for the eyes, then changes course and goes below the waist, trying to hit Adam in the balls. He's flat on his back before he's even close enough to brush Adam, and Adam's foot presses against his stomach, twisting. He grabs the ankle, pulling and when Adam almost loses his balance, hopping back, Tommy gets up again, trying to hit Adam in the stomach. 

The open palm against the side of his head makes him lose his balance, makes his ears ring, and he can't see properly. Adam takes that opportunity, grabbing the front of his shirt and throwing him across the room. Tommy lands on his ass, but he rolls back and runs to the other side of the table to get something in between them. He throws plates at the captain who easily blocks them with his arms, and now there's determination on his face. He's going to hurt Tommy. 

Tommy grabs the first long object that feels sturdy enough - a broom - and advances, takes the few steps separating them, and tries to hit the captain with the broom. The captain reveals his sword, and Tommy forgets to breathe. Is he going to die now? Like this? When they are just sparring? 

The captain steps behind him so fast Tommy can't even react, and there's a sharp edge of a sword against his throat. "How do you get out of this?"

Tommy grabs the captains balls through his pants and squeezes, not hesitating for a second. The sound the captain lets out is a little high, a little surprised, and his hold on Tommy loosens enough that he's able to drop down, and try to scramble away. 

Adam grabs the neck of his shirt and lifts him up, the sword gone, his free hand grabbing Tommy's throat. "What are you?"

Tommy kicks with his feet, but the captain chokes him, one arm around his waist, pulling Tommy back to chest with him. He won't stop fighting, and he grabs one finger of the hand that's holding his waist and twists it as hard as he can. The captain bites his neck, choking him more, and he's seeing stars now, his vision blurring. He tries to kick with his feet again, but he can't hit anything properly. 

He's starting to panic, losing consciousness, and he hits the captain with his head as hard as he can, and when he's dropped on the floor, he moves on all fours to the far end of the room. When he turns around the captain is holding his nose, blood everywhere. "You..."

Tommy snarls. He's so angry, his whole body ready to leap, ready to defend. 

"Whoa... Okay, I'm impressed. You don't give up."

No, he doesn't. He's never backed down from a fight. He's never going to let anyone kick him to the ground. 

"That was good. Monk will teach you to use a sword." Adam sits down again, but Tommy stays cautious, crouching close to the wall, his eyes focused on the captain. "You can finish your breakfast, then go to work."

He waits and when nothing happens he gets up slowly, stalking closer to the table. 

"You're strong," Adam says slowly. "You yield only when you'll gain from it."

Tommy doesn't like to be analyzed, but he doesn't say anything. He just sits and eats, still expecting something to go wrong. 

"That's a good quality here. The pirates' code on this ship..." The captain stares at him, a thoughtful look on his face. "The first rule: If you run from a fight you'll be killed. I don't think we'll have that problem with you." 

Tommy shakes his head, but says nothing. 

"The second rule: No fighting at sea. All disputes will be solved at shore. And the only one who's allowed to punish people is the quartermaster." Adam tilts his head, his elbows on the table. "The third rule: no women on board. And there's another rule for you. While you're on my ship, you're mine. Nobody else touches you."

He nods. No problem. He doesn't want anyone else's paws on him anyway.

"The fourth rule: we all have a vote on everything, but when we're in battle you listen to me and only me. My word is the law then. Any questions?"

"Do I get a share too?" 

The captain laughs. "If you prove yourself useful and when you've been baptized as a pirate... then yes. Otherwise we'll leave you somewhere. You've been too entertaining to be killed, and the crew agrees that we'll spare your life even if you'll be nothing but useless weight. Be glad. We haven't had a proper keelhauling for ages. They would've loved to see that."

Tommy stares the captain in the eyes. "I'll be a pirate."

"I believe you." There's a short pause, then the captain says, "Leave now. You're needed elsewhere."

Tommy obediently does that, pushing the door open to the main deck and then blinks a few times, blinded by the too-bright sun. He stands there for two seconds maybe, and then Monk hands him a holystone and says, “Scrub the deck.”

He’s not surprised by the task but it’s still strange to him because where he comes from people use swabs, and even though he knows what holystone is and why he’s using it, this is still new. Six men throw buckets of seawater on the deck, and Tommy kneels and starts scrubbing. 

“Make sure you do it well, or I’ll drag your bare ass across the deck.” 

Tommy just nods. He’s going to make sure there won’t be any splinters anywhere near his ass. He’s hurting enough as it is, the whip marks still making themselves known. And Adam wasn’t perfectly gentle with him either. Certain positions hurt more, and he tries to avoid those while moving across the deck very slowly. 

Usually there is more than one man doing this so it’ll be over faster, but it seems they’re still punishing him. Tommy doesn’t mind, but it’s hard work, and his shoulders start to ache and his knees and back complain about the treatment. 

It’s a big ship, and there’s a lot of deck to scrub, and the sun is merciless, making him thirsty. He feels a little dizzy too, and he wonders if he could steal a hat from somewhere. 

He works without complaint, without asking for something to drink, without rising to his feet and straightening his back. He can’t give up even though after an hour he feels awful, and he just wants to lie down for a while. 

When he’s finally finished, when it’s all done and he’s wet from head to toe, sweat and seawater making his clothes cling to his skin, they make him go below the deck to man the pumps. 

Ships swallow water, and the pumps are needed to dispel it, and it’s not a fun job to keep them pumping. Tommy is already tired after the morning on deck, and the only good thing about being below deck and close to the hull is the lack of sun. 

By the time Monk calls it a day for him, he’s beyond dead-tired, and he can’t even walk straight. He doesn’t know where he’s supposed to sleep - with the crew or the captain - and he has no idea if he can even eat without throwing up. 

Not even Ms. Morgan was able to make him this sore ever. 

He follows the rest of the crew to the mess hall and sits down in the first empty spot he sees and realizes too late that he’s sitting next to the captain. He tries to get up, but Adam grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him down. “Sit.”

Tommy does, wincing in pain, every muscle in his body aching, his ass still tender. He doesn’t care, though, because there’s water on the table, and the food smells delicious. He could eat a horse. He gets a serving, his portion, and it’s not nearly enough, but he eats it with great appetite, shovelling food into his mouth as fast as he can. 

Adam looks at him for a while, smirking, and Tommy would get annoyed if he had any willpower left for that. 

When the supper is over he hesitates, somewhere between following Monk and waiting for Adam to acknowledge his need for a sleeping place. 

He's exhausted, and all he wants to do is sleep, but if the captain wants him he'll follow. 

When everyone has basically left and nobody has said anything to Tommy he decides to go with the crew. He's almost out of the mess hall when the captain calls after him, "I want to talk to you, kid."

Tommy winces, all his muscles screaming for sleep, but he stops, turning around, and he goes where the captain wants him, his feet feeling heavy. He tries to stifle his yawn, but he's not entirely successful. Fortunately, the captain doesn't seem to mind. 

When they reach the captain's cabin it's like yesterday all over again. The captain takes off his jacket and shoes, then wipes his face and neck with a wet towel. Tommy stands further away, still unsure of what's expected of him. 

"What do you love about the sea?" the captain asks, sitting at the table, motioning for Tommy to sit down as well. 

He does, wondering what's going on. He's ready to crawl back to his corner on the floor. He's barely keeping his eyes open, and now he's supposed to make conversation happen? He sighs. "It's the first beautiful thing I saw after my parents died. I dream about it all the time. It feels like freedom, like there are no boundaries. That's why."

"Why a pirate?" Adam asks, placing his knives on the table in front of him, polishing them. 

"I don't know," he says honestly. "I don't want to work in the mines... or sell my body... or do just this. I want to gain something too."

"But you're selling your body to me right now for food, for shelter, for not getting killed. How is this different?"

Tommy just stares. He doesn't understand the sudden need to know anything about him. He's as boring as it gets. He's a nobody. "Well... I enjoyed it."

Adam tilts his head, looks at him with those piercing blue eyes like he can see through skin and bone, can see the hidden parts of Tommy's soul. It's unnerving. "You did, didn't you?" Adam pauses, then adds, "And do you want it to happen again?"

He shrugs. He's exhausted. Isn't it clear that he's barely holding it together? 

“Come here.”

Tommy gets up and goes to him, his poor heart doing double-time again. When he’s close enough Adam takes his wrist and pulls Tommy onto his lap, Tommy’s legs straddling Adam’s hips, the chair just barely big enough for both of them. 

“I could just use you,” Adam says, his mouth against Tommy’s neck. “What do you say to that?”

“You can.” The words aren’t quite audible. He’s hurting, and he’s trying to keep that away from his voice. 

Adam pushes a hand in Tommy’s pants, presses a finger against his hole, and Tommy whines because it hurts, his mind not helping, totally unable to get onboard with anything. He’s running on fumes. He just wants it over with. “Just do it,” he spits out, frustrated.

A hand twists in his hair, pulls his head back, and Adam stares down at him. “Know your worth. Know your game,” he says, then pushes Tommy off his lap and onto the floor. “Go to sleep.”

Tommy backs away like a crab on his hands and feet, staring at Adam the whole time. Then he just sits there, stunned. Everything he’s learned about pirates from the townspeople has been wrong or exaggerated so far. They are direct in their approach, but they are not mindless or evil. 

He doesn’t understand what Adam wants from him, but he’s willing to find out. 

Tommy gets up and walks to his blanket and pillow at the corner of the cabin, makes a cocoon out of the blanket, and falls promptly asleep. 

The days go by, and the food grows thinner, but he learns everything he can about life at sea. He learns to tie knots, haul in sails, climb the masts, cook for eighty-eight people, scrub and clean a ship... He learns the ropes, and the longer he’s there the surer he is that this was the best decision he could’ve ever made. 

Yes, it’s hard work. Yes, they’re trying to make him cry and beg and ask to be let off in the next harbor, but he’s a stubborn ass, hardened by the million times their graceful and loving nun-teacher, Ms. Morgan used corporal punishment on them for not being the good little boys they were supposed to be. Tommy never learned what being good was, though. It always seemed to be something they weren’t, no matter how hard they tried. 

The weird part is that he’s sleeping in the captain’s cabin, but nothing happens otherwise. The first night is the only night anything goes down, and it makes Tommy confused. He should be sleeping with the crew if he’s not fulfilling the captain’s needs, but for some reason, every night after supper he’s expected to follow the captain. 

They do have short conversations, and the captain asks him prying questions, but when Tommy thinks one thing might lead to another it never does. 

His skin heals, and he feels like himself again, his ass feeling like there has been no invaders. The hard work doesn’t make him ache the same way either, and Monk soon realizes that he’s agile and light and he moves like a monkey so he’s often up in the air, doing whatever is needed from him up there. Sometimes he even scouts, even though that’s too important a job for a newcomer like him. 

They’ve been at sea for two weeks when the first storm hits, and Tommy has never been so sick in his life. He’s a green shivering mess after throwing up twice, and he’s holding onto the leg of Adam’s bed because it’s nailed to the wall and not moving about like every other thing around him.

It’s pitch black, all the candles blown out, and he’s just curling into himself, praying that the ship won’t sink. Everyone else is outside doing their best to keep the ship on course and above the water. 

Tommy tried to help, but since it’s his first storm Monk kicked his sorry ass into the captain’s cabin, saying he was in their way and would only end up overboard because he didn’t know how to move with the storm. 

The ship makes the kind of noises that sound like it’s dying, and the darkness has Tommy panting in fear. He’s more afraid than when they were about to haul him under the keel. It feels like the sea is a monster that wants to eat them alive, and the tiny ship is the only thing keeping them out of its stomach. 

Tears are burning his eyes because this is hell. He’s already had two hard objects hit his back and side, and he’s trying to protect his head. There’s no control over this; he can do nothing. And that’s the one thing he can’t stand. He makes decisions. He takes charge of his life. This, this is just madness.

After what feels like an eternity the captain comes back, wet as a dog, peeling his clothes off his skin. 

The ship is still twisting and turning, moving wildly, but it’s less awful than a moment ago. 

Tommy dares to follow the captain with his eyes, but he won’t move. He doesn’t have his blanket or his pillow, but he doesn’t care. He’s still alive, and the monstrous sea hasn’t yet devoured him. 

“You need to get used to this,” the captain says after a while, sitting on the edge of the bed, his right foot touching Tommy’s stomach. “You can’t be useless like this, hiding here like a child.”

He knows that. 

“Come here.”

Tommy looks up, then slowly lets go of the leg of the bed, his fingers stiff. Adam pulls him up, wraps a blanket around them, then says, “Keep me warm.”

He’s shivering, kicking with his legs, trying to rub some warmth into them, and it’s not helping that Adam’s cold body presses now against his. At least they have a blanket. 

It takes them awhile to get warm, and when they finally do, Tommy thinks he’ll get kicked off the bed. It never happens. The captain falls asleep, his arms and legs around Tommy. It’s not that comfortable, but at least he’s warm. 

The last time he slept in a bed was over a month ago. All those nights on the streets of Port Royal or on the floor of the ship have made him tough. This now feels a bit too much, and he can’t fall asleep. 

The captain wakes up once during the night, brushing his fingers over Tommy’s stomach, then stilling his hand over Tommy’s heart. That makes his heart jump, but nothing else happens, and he relaxes, his mind too drained for him to think about anything but the fact that he’s a free man under a free sky. That gives him enough solace to drift to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

When they finally arrive at their destination, they’ve been at sea for almost three weeks, and once Tommy’s feet touch the ground again he can’t walk properly. It feels like the ground is moving under his feet, and he walks like a drunk person. It’s a weird feeling that makes him want to sit down and wait for the dizziness to go away. 

He follows the captain, Monk and two other men as they walk through an old market place. He’s curious about everything: all the live animals, people selling services and goods, the colors and lights. The accents are different, the clothes a little too, and he feels like he’s gone to another world, a fairy-tale land. 

This is why he wanted to leave, too. He wants to see the world. 

They go inside a white stone house with a beautiful garden, and Tommy wonders what their business is there. Fancy places like this don’t seem like they would welcome pirates.

A man comes to greet them, hugging the captain like they’ve known each other for years, and that’s even weirder. Tommy just stares, very aware of his own ratty look, his dirty clothes and even dirtier hair, his bare black feet and his uneven toenails. 

There’s a longcase clock against the wall next to the front door, and Tommy can’t tear his eyes off it. He’s always been fascinated by machines and gadgets, anything people have created to make their lives easier. He doesn’t understand how a clock can follow time. 

“So...” the slightly overweight man says and Tommy is suddenly painfully envious of him. It’s clear he’s always been able to eat as much as he wants. “May I assume you have Mrs. Cunningham’s goods ready for unloading?”

The captain smiles. "You know me, Gilbert. I'm a man of my word."

"A rare trait in your trade, Mr. Lambert." 

"We aim to please when we're not trying to steal from you." There's genuine amusement in the captain's voice. 

Gilbert waves a hand, then starts walking to the back of the house. "Yes, indeed.” 

They walk by gorgeous furniture, beautiful chandeliers, lots of gold and red, and paintings of battles and castles, ships and the sea. Tommy almost walks into Adam's back because he's looking around, his eyes roaming freely over everything, things he's never seen in real life, rich people's things that don’t fit in his world. He stops, Adam's red velvet jacket making his eyes cross. 

He can't believe the captain brought him here. It’s painfully obvious he doesn’t belong. All the rest of them are dressed in their finest clothes, and they are all wearing shoes, too. He's the only one in short brown pants and a used-to-be-white ruffle shirt. He doesn't even have a hat. And if the madam wants to shake hands with him it'll take an eternity to wash that dirt off her fingers. Never going to happen. 

The woman is sitting in her garden, wearing a blue-black gown and drinking tea. She has no company, but she doesn't look like she needs one. She fills the space all by herself, and Tommy has never seen anything as beautiful as her. 

"She's waiting for you," Gilbert says. "She's in a fair mood."

Tommy looks at him, puzzled about the words because he doesn't understand what her mood has to do with this. Then he wonders why they're delivering goods to anyone. Shouldn't they be sailing the seas, looking for the perfect catch? Then he has to stop thinking because the conversation that takes place is far too interesting. 

Adam bows, and that makes Tommy nearly gasp. He holds it in, but it's a struggle. 

The woman smiles, holding out her hand, and Adam takes it, kissing her gloved fingers. "Good morning, Mrs. Cunningham." 

"I'm pleased you're on time."

"A storm tried to lure us off course, but we kept our heads and found our way to you." 

Mrs. Cunningham points at the chairs around the table, and they all sit down, except Tommy because there are only four chairs left, and Adam shows with a nod of his head that he wants Tommy to stay beside him. 

"Oh, he's a new one," the lady says, and Tommy feels exposed under her stare. He thought he would've been invisible to her like he's always been to her kind, but she doesn't seem to be like the rest of the nobility. "What happened to the last one?" 

"I sent him away," Adam says, his voice soft. 

A servant comes with extra cups and pours them tea without asking if they want it. Everyone drinks it anyway, and Tommy wonders who this lady is to make pirates drink tea from porcelain cups.

"That's unfortunate. I liked him. He had spunk." 

Tommy can't help the blush. He has a feeling they are having a much more detailed conversation in front of him, but he has no clue what it’s all about. 

Tommy finds the ground very fascinating while Mrs. Cunningham stares at him, and when she finally turns her attention back to Adam he sighs in relief, not knowing why she affects him so much. 

"You want to stay at Hawk and Buckle?" she asks next. "The girls miss you." She pauses, looking at Adam from head to toe. "And you could use a bath."

Tommy takes a step back, too shocked to control his stupid body. This is not good. 

But Adam doesn't pull out his knife, doesn't seem to be affected by her words at all. "That would be nice. How many of us are welcome?"

"The ones that know how to behave."

Adam is quiet for a second, then turns to look at Monk. "Did two get into trouble last time?"

"I think they got shot, Sir."

Adam gives Mrs. Cunningham a charming smile. "We'll choose more carefully this time."

They are escorted out after a few more exchanged pleasantries, and Tommy can only let out a breath of relief. She felt like a witch, a man-devouring beast, and he has no idea why they are even doing business with a woman like her. 

Their entire day is full of different meetings in houses that are equally posh, and after the last one, Tommy is ready to fall over. He never thought that piracy would be about keeping up appearances and business relations. He thought they would sink ships, steal goods, and live like gods. He never thought they'd be such important participants of the society. 

When they're done they go back to the ship, and the captain and the quartermaster make sure only those men come with them who can handle themselves in a big city. There's a lot of them still, and Tommy feels a little proud when they walk down the street, striking fear into the hearts of the passersby. They are a ragtag crew, and their captain is a tall dangerous man, and Tommy is a part of this. He belongs. 

They reach Hawk and Buckle that turns out to be an Inn. The captain drops a pouch of coins on the bar, and it seems like everyone knows them, coming to greet them and welcome them. There's laughter and drinks and warm food, and the floor doesn't spin anymore. 

Tommy drinks with everyone else, avoids the fights that break out, then spends the rest of the evening listening to stories and just feeling the atmosphere. There are women with skimpy clothes, and young boys with almost no clothes at all, and they seem to find their pairs easily among the crew. 

At some point, Adam grabs his shoulder and pulls him up the stairs, and he follows even though Monk is just starting to tell a story about their last heist and how the captain made most of the crew surrender without a fight because he was a scary motherfucker with fuses burning in his hair and his eyes mad like a bull’s. 

Tommy doesn't recognize that person at all. The one he's seen has a warm body and an intelligent gaze, and doesn't seem to mindlessly cut people into pieces. He's seen worse, and their captain is definitely not the cruelest person he's ever met. 

Adam pushes him into a room lit with candles. It's small but cozy, and there's a huge copper bathtub in the middle of the room. "Get undressed," Adam says, and Tommy quickly obeys. He's not used to bathtubs. At the orphanage, they washed themselves at the shore. But he sometimes had to carry buckets of water for the bath their queen nun took. She bathed daily, believing that cleanliness was a part of godliness. 

Tommy takes a step closer to the tub, feeling a bit iffy about the whole thing. He doesn't mind grime, but the idea of not-so-dirty hair is a little appealing. He just doesn't like the way the water's surface is steaming. It has to be too hot, burning hot, and putting his bare ass in there seems like a bad idea. 

"Get in," Adam says then, and Tommy realizes Adam is naked too now. 

He dips his leg into the bath and nearly screams. It is hot, and he can't breathe around the feel of the water. It's awful, and he wants to pull out, but Adam is standing next to him now, impatience pouring off of him in waves. Tommy steels himself, then goes all the way in, only his head above the surface. It burns, and he's taking short shallow breaths, and it feels awful. 

"Do you want someone to wash you?" 

That's just... He glances around the room to make sure there's no one else Adam is talking to, then shakes his head, unable to use words yet because he's trying to concentrate on not burning to death. 

"Okay..." Adam hesitates for a moment, and it's weird because Tommy is pretty much his slave, and Adam can do anything he wants to him. It's been rather disturbing that nothing has been happening, though. "I'm..." 

Tommy looks at him, then does something utterly stupid. He holds out his hand. 

Adam doesn't take it, but he steps into the bath with Tommy, sits behind him, and pulls Tommy's back against his chest. The tub is big enough for both of them. 

They lie like that for a long while, and when nothing happens Tommy starts to relax. It's almost pleasant, and he doesn't know how to take it. He chooses to enjoy it, though. 

"What happened to the other me?" Tommy finally asks. 

"The other...?" Adam pauses. "Oh..." There's a chuckle. "He didn't die if you're asking that."

"Kind of, yes. I'm glad."

"He wanted to leave the Caribbean. He's somewhere in Europe now."

Tommy rests his head against the captain's shoulder, thinking about their day, what they did, how many people they met. "Why are you dealing with so many people?"

The captain strokes Tommy's stomach, drawing circles on his skin. "We're the men who fight. We're the ones they need if other's attack them. When it's a time of peace we use them for dealing, for goods, for entertainment. And sometimes, it's good to know people who have your back. We can't survive alone. Even if you have all the money in the world you need someone to spend it to and with. Otherwise life will be boring."

That makes sense. “This is a lot more difficult than I originally thought,” Tommy confesses, and Adam laughs. “We hear all these stories about you, and none of them are really true.”

Adam’s hand wanders lower, past Tommy’s cock to his balls, and he cups them, holds them, and Tommy tries to think through the feelings. “I want to learn everything.”

“You’re a cocky boy,” Adam says, and it sounds like a compliment.

 

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

Lying in Adam’s arms in the bathtub, Tommy spreads his thighs in case Adam wants to push his hand between them, and he’s rewarded with a finger stroking his hole. 

“Yeah...” Tommy manages to say, then he can only gasp because Adam wraps his other hand loosely around Tommy’s cock and just keeps it there. The double-stimulus makes him squirm, makes him want, and it’s surprising how quick it is. 

Everything Adam does is too little, though, and he’s soon asking for more, begging for the finger, anything. He just wants to feel, but Adam only holds him, talking sweetly in his ear, whispering dirty, nasty things he would like to do to Tommy, but there’s just stroking, too soft, too light, and Tommy whines in his lap, trying to use his own hands to get some release. Adam won’t let him. He releases Tommy’s cock and grabs Tommy’s wrists in one hand, then continues stroking his hole lightly. 

“Look what you did,” Adam whispers. “Now you get nothing.”

It’s maddening, and he tries to move his hips, tries to get Adam to touch him more, but all he gets is that one finger, massaging him gently, slowly, and it makes him groan. He pushes his head back, his eyes closed, his throat exposed, and Adam bites his neck. 

Tommy wants to do something drastic because Adam is a tease, a nasty piece of work who knows exactly how to torture him. He can't do anything, though, because Adam squeezes his wrists tightly, holds him in place, and Tommy knows that if he does something to truly annoy Adam, nothing at all will happen - except possibly something painful. 

So he waits, his patience running out, his body responding to the tiniest touch, and he lets out all those tiny noises Adam's tongue and fingers pull out of him. 

Tommy squirms in Adam's arms, his hips undulating, the water moving around them, and he's biting his lips, his cheeks, aching. 

"You should see yourself," Adam whispers in his ear, his breath hot against Tommy's skin. "You want me to fuck you."

"Of course I do," he says, frustrated and almost angry. "You fucking tease."

Adam laughs, then bites Tommy's ear and it hurts so much he whines. "Ask nicely and maybe I will."

Tommy holds onto the words, and when he doesn’t say anything, Adam presses his finger against Tommy's hole, still not pushing in. "God..." Tommy groans, his back arching. 

"Say it," Adam says softly. "Say you want it. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Just..." Tommy whimpers when Adam licks his neck. "Just... Please... I want... Please."

"Tommy." His name is like a caress, and it burns him more than the touch, makes him push closer to Adam, makes him tilt his head back even more. "Do you want me deep, buried inside you?"

He nods, his mouth open when Adam pushes one finger inside him, slowly, slower than ever before, so slow it's agonizing. 

"How does it feel? Like you're breaking apart?"

"Don't... I can't..." 

Adam crooks the finger, rubs it against something inside him that feels too good, too sensitive, too intimate. 

He lets out a long groan, his breaths so shallow he's not getting enough air. "I want you... Please."

"What do you want, Tommy?"

"Fill me," he whispers, then says it over and over again while Adam moves that one finger inside him, careful and gentle and too damn slow. "Har--der, please." 

"I want you to come like this, only with my finger, only with my words."

Tommy tilts his head to the side and bites Adam's neck, angry and frustrated, but it gets him nowhere. Adam continues to fuck him with that one finger, rubbing his insides, and he gets nothing but that. Nothing. He licks at the bite mark, fighting Adam's hold, trying to free his hands, but Adam won't let him. This is all he gets. "Please?" he begs. "Please?"

Adam palms Tommy’s balls, then plays with his hole again, and that gives him more, almost enough to drive him over the edge. 

"You're beautiful," Adam tells him, and it feels like a lie, but maybe it isn't because Adam kisses his temple. "The way you beg is beautiful. Your body asks for more, moving, wanting, and you can't stop it from revealing how much you like this."

He likes to be tortured? Maybe he does because he's not trying to fight his way out of this. 

"I want you to be ready for me always. Waiting for me. Spread for me. Wanton and open. You think you can do it?"

Tommy nods, pleasure blinding him, and he's now nuzzling Adam's neck, asking for more without words. 

"Will you hold still if I touch you?"

He makes a sound that should be a yes, but it's nowhere near it. It seems to be enough, though, because the smile is clear in Adam's voice when he says, "Good boy. And will you stay quiet if I fuck you?"

Tommy nods again, eager, so out of his mind with lust that he doesn't care what he has to do to get what he wants. 

"Get up then," Adam says, pulling his finger out and pushing at Tommy’s back. "Get up."

Tommy tries, but the first time, he just slips, splashing water all around the tub. 

"Get up." The captain slaps his ass, and that clears his mind enough that he manages to climb out of the tub. He's wet, and he finds a towel before he drips water all over the room.

Adam laughs at him, drying his own face with another towel, and it's a weird sound because there's no real joy behind it, just amusement Tommy has caused. 

He's shaking because he's full of anticipation, and he doesn't know if the captain will keep his word. He's still afraid that this is it, that this is all he gets, but then the captain grabs his elbow and throws him on the bed. He's never going to get used to this. It's so weird, someone using force on him without wanting to hurt him.

"Turn around," the captain says, his eyes glinting. "I want to see you."

Tommy does that without hesitation, then waits. 

The captain takes hold of his ankles and pulls, spreading him on the bed. Then when nothing happens for a while, Tommy turns to look at the captain over his shoulder. What he sees takes his breath away. 

Adam is staring at him with keen eyes, the light of the candles framing him, and he looks sinister, something dark risen out of the sea. 

Tommy wants to be scared, wants to be intimidated, but he isn’t. He wants Adam instead, and what he does makes that clear. He pushes back, rising on his knees, his face buried in a pillow. 

The gasp he hears makes his heartbeat speed up, but he holds still, just like he promised. 

Finally, Adam reaches out and touches him, his hand spread on one of Tommy’s ass cheeks and his thumb circling Tommy’s hole. It’s almost a non-touch, but it’s there, and it makes Tommy want to whine, but he bites the pillow and holds it in because he promised. 

Adam teases him for a moment and it almost feels like he’s admiring Tommy’s body from this angle, like he’s somehow mesmerized. Then Adam leans forward, moves down, and licks Tommy’s skin, his balls, his thighs, his hole, and it’s too much. Tommy fights to stay still because he doesn’t want to lose this, but it’s otherworldly, dangerously good, and nothing has ever been like it. 

He bites the pillow harder, holds onto the sheets, twists his hands and digs his toes into the mattress, but he can’t stay absolutely still or silent. He has to moan into the pillow, his wet hair getting into his mouth when he pants for air. 

Adam pushes his tongue inside him and Tommy mewls, breathing through the words and feelings he can’t keep in. He’s babbling, incoherent, a constant noise coming out of his mouth, but Adam doesn’t stop. He licks and kisses and even bites him all over, making him so wet Adam could easily push in. He’s so ready to be fucked, so ready to be taken. 

“Please... God... Please.” 

Adam kisses him one more time, then slips two fingers inside him, twisting them, scissoring, his tongue pushing in too, and Tommy whines, thrusting back, moving with Adam’s fingers, fucking himself onto them. He wants Adam to fuck him, mount him, take him, come inside him, mark him, whatever he wants, and he tries to tell him that, tries to form sentences that would make sense. 

“You’re not good at keeping your word,” Adam says, then kisses Tommy’s thigh. 

Tommy is shaking so badly he can’t hold still for a second. He’s flushed; he knows that, so ready to be fucked. “I want you inside me,” he manages to say even though Adam is way too close to his sensitive parts, breathing there, smelling him. And it makes Tommy’s head spin. 

Adam laughs again. “You’ll suffer this until you’re able to stay quiet.”

He groans, spreading his legs more, begging with his body. 

Then he feels Adam’s wet fingers pushing in again, so wet he’s sure Adam has found something to make him even more open and ready for this. Tommy fears there won’t be anything left of him when this is over if Adam continues to be so fucking thorough. There are fingers and lots of oil and saliva and a very talented tongue, and how is he supposed to stay quiet through this? 

Tommy bites his lips, bites the pillow, pulls at his hair, and stays as quiet as he can, hoping it’ll be enough. Adam is killing him with the soft lingering touches, and Tommy can’t take it any longer. 

He pushes at Adam’s shoulder, then turns on his back and grabs Adam’s hair, pulling him down for a kiss, and to his surprise Adam lets him do it. Tommy isn’t gentle, and Adam groans into his mouth, his hips pushing forward, his cock almost where Tommy wants it. 

“I need you,” he says against Adam’s lips, breathing the same air with him, needy as hell, shaking all over. He can’t concentrate on anything else but Adam’s body over his, Adam’s mouth against his own, and he tries to angle himself right so Adam can push in, can bury himself into Tommy. 

Adam grabs hold of Tommy’s thighs, his waist, biting his shoulder, lining himself up and thrusting forward, harsh and powerful, and when he breaches Tommy it’s a satisfying ache inside him, something he’s been waiting for so long that he can’t be anything but ready for it. He moans into Adam’s mouth, lets him kiss away the sounds, lets Adam hold him so close it’s almost unbearable. 

Adam keeps pounding into Tommy, his thrusts merciless and exactly what Tommy needs and wants right now. Tommy wraps his arms and legs around Adam, holds on for the ride, and then laughs because it just feels too good. 

Maybe he can let the sounds out finally, and maybe Adam won’t punish him afterwards. He doesn’t care, because this, this makes him happy. 

When it’s over, when Adam has pushed Tommy over the edge and has come inside him, they are just lying there on their stomachs, panting side by side, Adam’s hand at the small of Tommy’s back. 

It’s all good until Adam slaps Tommy’s ass and says, “Find the wench, get rid of the bath tub, and clean up after us.”

Tommy doesn’t question it, just does what Adam tells him to do. He finds his clothes where he left them and puts them on, thinking he should get them washed before they sail off, and then leaves the room without a word. 

When he gets back with the sturdy woman who runs the inn with her husband, Adam is standing by the window, his feet bare and his white shirt open, revealing his chest. His long hair is still wet. 

Tommy works in silence with the woman, trying to disturb the captain as little as possible, and when they are done he just stands in the middle of the room, not knowing what he’s supposed to do. 

It takes a long moment for Adam to speak, and when he does, he sounds tired. “I don’t have time for this.” Adam pauses, then tilts his head and looks at the crescent moon like it has answers to spill. “You are a distraction.”

Tommy swallows, his heart sinking, but he says nothing. The idea of being left behind twists his gut. He has nowhere else to go, doesn’t want to be anywhere else either.

“Distractions get men like me killed.”

“I don’t care what you do to me, just let me stay,” Tommy finally says, shifting from foot to foot. 

Adam laughs, mirthless. “You shouldn’t say things like that. I’m not a good man.”

Tommy thinks he hasn’t seen half of what kind of a man Adam can be. So far, he’s been treated fairly, though. “I won’t stand in your way. If I ever become a burden you can toss me into the sea.”

Adam turns to look at him, his movements slow and careful. “You don’t know what those words mean.”

“I know enough. You like my body. This,” he points at his temple, “will never become a problem.”

This time, Adam takes a step closer to Tommy, his eyes glinting in the half-light. “Don’t challenge me, don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Tommy hesitates for a second, then walks up to Adam and kneels, bowing his head. “I’ll be your humble servant. I don’t need much in return, just the right to stay, to become a pirate, to be a part of your crew.”

“You don’t have a servant’s mentality,” Adam says softly, grabbing a handful of Tommy’s hair and tilting his head back.

“All the more fun for you,” Tommy says bravely even though he’s shaking, and he knows Adam can feel it. 

Adam stares at him for a long moment, then releases his hair and takes a step back, turning around. “You’re a fool.”

“I know,” Tommy says, still on his knees. 

Adam’s back is rigid when he says, “Go away. I don’t need you tonight.”

Tommy stands, then waits to see if Adam changes his mind and when he doesn’t, Tommy walks out, not having a clue where to go but knowing that he’s welcome to stay as long as he stays out of sight. 

He walks down the stairs, his legs stiff and his body hurting. At least he played his cards right tonight. He doesn’t know about tomorrow or the day after that. He has no idea what Adam wants, and what makes him think that Tommy is a danger to him. If he ever learns that, he’ll make sure to fix it. 

For now, he needs to keep his head down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, from now on, I have nothing left of the story I wrote before. It's all new. And it would've been horrible if my darling beta @aislinntlc hadn't questioned what I wrote. :P Be happy that it was fixed. Haha! Happy Wednesday everyone. <3


	6. Chapter 6

Tommy sits on the deck of the ship, feeling the breeze in his hair. It’s the first time he’s sat down all day, and he’s so tired he can’t even close his eyes anymore. They’ve been sailing for seventeen days straight. 

The food is scarce and most of it is rotten anyway, so he’s been filling his stomach with grog: a blend of sugar-water, lime juice and rum. It’s nearly dark already, but he can’t even think of going to the captain’s cabin. 

He’s been ready every night for the captain to do whatever he pleases, but like before the inn, nothing has happened. Tommy has started to think there’s something wrong with him. Maybe he smells bad. 

Tommy leans against the side of the ship, wondering how he’s supposed to survive in this world. At least at the orphanage he always knew what to expect. Here, he’s blindfolded. 

Monk walks by him, then takes a few steps back and kicks Tommy’s feet. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be rough.”

They have knowledge of where and when a British ship with valuable goods is going to pass Tobago. Of course it’s still mostly guess work, but they have the schedule and the route of the ship. How they got this information is beyond Tommy, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is he’s going to see some real action in a day or two. He’s going to see Adam leading his crew to a fight. 

Tommy nods, and Monk seems to hesitate for a second, but then sits down, straightening his legs in front of him. Those legs are huge, making Monk look like an ancient spirit god with thick roots to the earth.

He would be an intimidating enemy in a battle. 

“The crew thinks you’ll become a pirate for sure if you can survive the heist,” Monk finally says. “They like you.”

Tommy hides the small smile behind his hand.

“Just… Don’t run from the fight. The way you acted during the storm will get you marooned.” Monk looks dead serious, and Tommy thinks he’s damn lucky he’s getting this speech. Monk thinks he’s worth it. 

“I won’t.” Tommy tilts his head up, curling his lip. “I’m not a coward.”

Monk laughs. “No, that you’re not. I’ll talk to the captain about a suitable weapon for you.”

Tommy has been practicing sword fighting with Avery, one of the more experienced pirates on the ship (he still hasn’t learned to call it The Hellborn), but he doesn’t own a sword yet. He’s been using Monk’s old cutlass.

“Thank you,” Tommy says because he doesn’t know what else to say. These people have taken him in even though they didn’t have to. 

“We’ll see if you thank me after the battle.”

Tommy grins openly, finishing his grog. Then he fills the cup again and hands it to Monk. They share the drink in silence for a while, listening to the sea around them. 

Tommy is eager to ask questions, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed. He tries anyway. 

“How long has Adam been a pirate?”

Monk scratches his chin, then says, “I’ve been sailing with him for five years, but he’s been here since he was seventeen. He was the first mate of the previous captain who died two or three years ago.”

Tommy doesn’t dare to ask what happened to the man, because he’s not sure he would like the answer. Instead he asks, “Do you know why he became a pirate?”

Monk shrugs. “Who knows. Same reason we all do: too few options, too much shit going on.”

“What kind of shit?” He knows he’s going too far with his questions, but he wants to know and Adam wouldn’t tell him. 

“You know the story, boy. An orphan runs away from his abusers. You’ve lived it, haven’t you?” Monk looks at Tommy over the rim of the cup as he takes a sip. 

Tommy frowns. “I’m nothing like him.”

“I suppose not, but it doesn’t take a genius to know what happened to all of us. Some wanted to have adventures, but most of us… most of us were destroyed when we were kids.” Monk sounds matter-of-fact, and it makes the words sink deeper than softly spoken words would. They hurt Tommy, sting like the cutlass he still can’t use properly. “That’s why we drink... to drown our sorrows, boy. And no woman can ever make those sorrows go away. So we drink and we steal and we kill and that’s just how it is.”

“It’s more than that,” Tommy says, almost desperate, and he doesn’t know why he wants Monk to admit it. “We live for the sea.”

Monk raises the cup, grinning. “I’ll drink to that.”

The conversation with Monk leaves him restless, and when he finally goes to the captain’s cabin he doesn’t know how to behave. 

He’s started to fear the cabin because it’s the one place where he has no idea what is expected of him. Everywhere else, he’s useful. Here, he’s just a servant without a task. 

The captain is sitting in front of his desk at the far back, reading. He doesn’t look up when Tommy enters. 

Tommy notices the moldy bread on the long table and the crumbs on the floor, and he goes to get the broom. He cleans everything up, shines Adam’s shoes while he’s at it, dusts the other surfaces, and then stands idly by. 

When nothing happens, Tommy reaches for one of the chairs, tilts it, and lets it drop on its back on the floor. 

The captain looks up, startled. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, his eyes flashing and his mouth a thin line of anger.

“Good question,” Tommy says, his hands on his waist. “Tell me what I’m doing?”

The captain stands up. “You’re disrupting my concentration.”

Tommy nods, but says nothing more. He got the captain’s attention. That’s what he wanted. What he’s going to do with it is another thing entirely. 

“You’re here because I allow it. Do you want to be left on an uninhabited island?”

“I want to know what I’m doing here.” He doesn’t feel bold at all. He’s just tired of not knowing the ground he’s walking on. If he knows, if he has a place, if he’s punished for deeds he’s not allowed to do, then he’ll have limits, walls around himself, something by which he can define himself. 

Now, he’s just like everyone else, drinking grog to drown his sorrows.

“Aren’t you supposed to be my servant? Aren’t you doing exactly that?” The captain sounds furious all of a sudden, even though he doesn’t raise his voice. 

“You said to be ready for you, and I’ve done that, and you never… Is that a part of the agreement or not? I don’t know what to think of myself when you don’t act on your words. Am I a pirate? Am I your harlot? I don’t know my place here. I don’t know my rights. I don’t know the limits.”

The captain leans over the desk, his hands resting on the surface. “Come here, boy.”

Tommy obeys without hesitation. 

When he’s close enough, Adam grabs him, throws him on the desk on his stomach, and pulls down his pants. “If this is what you need to keep your sense of gravity, then this is what you’ll get.”

Tommy holds onto the edge of the desk when Adam lines himself up and pushes inside him inch by agonizing inch, the too-dry drag of his cock making Tommy bite his arm and fight back a groan. He oiled himself earlier that day, but he’s still too tight. 

Adam grabs Tommy’s hair, twists his head back so their eyes lock, and Tommy can see how angry Adam really is. Where that anger is coming from, he doesn’t know, and right now, doesn’t really care, because this makes it easier. 

He knows his place. 

Tommy licks his lips, lets go of the edge of the table, and reaches back, holds onto Adam’s thigh. “Harder,” he says, his voice clear. “Please.”

Adam takes hold of his waist and thrusts in as hard as he can, the desk moving forward. He pulls all the way out then pushes in once more, his nails leaving marks on Tommy’s skin. When Adam comes he bites Tommy’s shoulder, one hand around Tommy’s throat, choking him.

It’s not pleasant, but it isn’t awful either. The weird feeling he’s had under his skin ever since they left Charlestown is gone now, and he just lies there under Adam’s weight, relief washing over him. 

Adam doesn’t let go of Tommy’s throat for a long while, but he eases the pressure enough that Tommy can breathe. Adam stays buried inside him, too, like he wants to make sure Tommy knows where he belongs. 

He does. He has no doubt about it now.

“Happy now?” Adam asks close to his ear. 

“Yeah, yes…”

“God, you’re infuriating.” Adam leans back, pulls out of Tommy, and releases him. “Anyone else would be happy that I wasn’t paying any attention to them.”

“I’d rather fulfill my duty,” Tommy says, still just lying there because he knows his legs won’t carry him.

Adam slaps his ass, and when Tommy doesn’t move, Adam does it again. “Go!”

“You can do your work even if I’m here.” Tommy tries to look at Adam over his shoulder, but he’s too tired to move enough. 

Adam is quiet for a moment, then laughs out loud. “Oh my god, then stay here and be quiet.”

Tommy rests his head against the back of his hands and lets the sounds of Adam moving about lull him to near-sleep. He calls this a victory. He got a reaction, and he got to stay yet again. 

After a while, he feels Adam’s hand on his ass, caressing him, the palm soft and warm and the fingers gentle. Tommy smiles because he’s starting to get how Adam works even if he doesn’t understand why he works that way. 

A finger traces his wet thigh, slides over his hole, then goes down again. It seems absentminded somehow, but it’s also pleasant, like a secret between them. 

“I lost someone once,” Adam says so quietly Tommy isn’t sure if he was meant to hear it, but then Adam continues, “You remind me of him.”

Tommy bites his lip, keeping his breaths as even as possible. 

“He… loved me.” The word _loved_ is cracked, hurt and open in ways that make Tommy’s heart clench. 

He doesn’t dare to say anything, but he stays and lets Adam stroke the small of his back until it’s time to go to sleep. 

In his corner on the floor, Tommy sighs, contentment swelling inside him. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from, but he welcomes it gladly. He’s starting to feel at home here.

Adam says _Good night_ before blowing the candles out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait. I happen to be extremely busy at the moment because of work and university and because I'm writing other fic too. The thing is that when I'm busy my mind has less room for stories. That's why it takes longer for me to write anything. Hopefully I'll find a balance soon because writing needs to happen every day. :) 
> 
> This was betaed by the ever-wonderful @leela_cat. <333 Thank you, bb.


	7. Chapter 7

Tommy almost hacks someone’s arm off with his cutlass, then runs after another poor sucker who tries to escape his wrath. He’s on board of a merchant ship, keeping up with Adam who is giving quick, harsh commands to his men. Adam is like the devil himself, his face distorted with fury and his sword bloody and swinging wildly. The fuses in his hair are burning, swirls of smoke surrounding him. 

It’s easy to follow Adam. Tommy isn’t thinking; he’s just listening, doing what is expected of him, letting Adam have his body and mind under his command.

Soon they have the ship under control because most of the men surrender, laying down their weapons and kneeling, begging to be spared. 

Tommy is too full of adrenaline to understand what is going on, and he hits a man not much older than himself even though he’s on his knees already. Tommy breaks his nose, but that doesn’t stop him. He tries to kick the man too, but someone grabs the back of his shirt and lifts him up. 

“Cut it out. They’ve surrendered.” It’s Monk. He doesn’t sound angry, but his hold is firm, and after a short struggle, Tommy gives in. He stares at Adam who pulls the captain of the merchant ship to his feet and holds him at an arm’s length. The guy looks like he’s about to pee his pants, and Tommy wonders if there’s something wrong with him because he wants to see that happening. He wants to see the man forced to walk the plank. He wants to see all of them suffer. 

He closes his eyes, goes lax in Monk’s grip, lets him take his full weight, and Monk holds him up, then grabs Tommy’s waist and puts him under his arm like Tommy weighs nothing, like he’s just a sack of potatoes. He doesn’t care. He wants this to be over already. He wants to wash the blood off his hands. He wants to go back to being a servant. 

Tommy is shivering when they finally get everything settled, when the goods are safely hidden below deck of the Hellborn and the crew of the merchant ship has been sent away on two tiny boats. They sink the merchant ship for the hell of it, and the party that starts after that keeps Tommy awake for most of the night even though he doesn’t take part in it. 

He lies in his corner on the floor, still shaking, his body feeling alien. He has no idea what’s wrong, but he feels like he’s lost a connection to something inside him. 

He thought he had it in him to be a pirate, but apparently he was wrong. 

When Adam comes into the cabin he’s so drunk he can barely stand. He throws his jacket on the floor, kicks off his shoes, and falls next to Tommy in somewhat of a sitting position. “You were great out there,” Adam says. “Fierce. Fearless. They were afraid of you.”

Tommy has to concentrate on understanding Adam because he’s mangling the words, sounding drunk too. 

“You were great.” Adam touches the side of Tommy’s face, his eyes warm. “But you’ll be even more amazing in the future.”

Tommy’s body has frozen in place, and he can’t even blink. He just stares at Adam, his mind feeling frozen too. 

“When I was young I didn’t have what you have: the spirit, the anger, the relentlessness. I was weak.” Adam runs his hand through Tommy’s hair. “I lost everything because of that. You… One day you can take my place, and they’ll follow you.”

Adam pulls Tommy into a hug, then lifts him up in his arms, and even though he’s drunk, he manages to carry Tommy to the bed. 

Tommy lets Adam help him under the blankets and wrap his warm body around Tommy’s. It feels so strange, so abnormal, and he still doesn’t know how to speak or how to even form thoughts. 

“Please don’t die,” Adam whispers in his ear before falling asleep. 

The words keep Tommy awake for a long time, and it doesn’t help that he has no idea how to sleep with Adam’s warm body against his own. 

He wonders if he’s in shock. He killed a man today, wounded a few others, and no matter what he’s done before, this was his first time in a real battle. He sees bloodied faces and severed limbs when he closes his eyes so he keeps staring at the ceiling. 

Adam snores lightly, his breath smelling of rum, and in a way, it’s soothing. Tommy starts to relax, starts to breathe in Adam’s rhythm and at some point, he falls asleep, too. 

When he wakes up, Adam is staring at him. 

“Morning,” Adam whispers like he’s afraid to say anything. 

Tommy smiles because he’s too asleep still to think of what he’s doing. “Hi,” he says, stretching his legs and arms. Adam is lying on his side, his arm and leg resting on top of Tommy’s body. They are sweaty, but it’s a comfortable kind of warmth, and Tommy doesn’t want to move ever. 

“How did you end up here?” Adam asks, stroking Tommy’s chest through his shirt. 

“You carried me.” Tommy can’t stop smiling because Adam is being soft, and it makes him feel mellow. He could get used to this, and that is a dangerous thought. 

“I did?” Adam looks surprised. “I must have,” he adds carefully, then kisses the side of Tommy’s face. “Did I talk too much?”

Tommy has no idea what Adam means so he says honestly, “You never talk enough.”

“So you’d like to know things?” The smile that spreads on Adam’s face is genuine, and Tommy wants to hide it in his pocket. He doesn’t want anyone to steal it from Adam’s face. 

Tommy nods, then says, “Yeah, anything. Everything. I’m all ears, and I’m good at keeping secrets. Even if said secrets are being beaten out of me.”

Adam frowns. “Did they beat you up a lot at the orphanage?” 

“Often. I’m a slow learner when it comes to inane rules.” He grins at Adam because Adam seems to be interested in his welfare. It’s the first time he feels like Adam truly sees him. “Tell me about yourself. Please. I’m dying to know. You’re such a mystery to me, and I can’t seem to pump any information out of your crew.” He leaves out the conversation he had with Monk, because, like Tommy said, he’s not a tattletale. 

“I don’t know where to begin,” Adam says, staring at the wall. 

“You said something about losing everything last night. I’d like to know more, but I don’t mind if you don’t want to talk about that. Anything is fine. Your first encounter with pirates. How you got to know Mrs. Cunningham. Why you burn fuses in your hair. Anything.”

Adam laughs, and Tommy stares at him in shock because that was genuine joy. “The fuses bring terror to the hearts of my enemy, and they sometimes surrender before a fight because of how scary we are.” Adam pauses, still smiling. “You are a good addition to that, a tiny terror on your own.”

Tommy doesn’t know what to think of that. He’s still trying to decide if he can actually do this, if he should just become a regular sailor, and not one of these guys, not one of Adam’s men. 

It still makes him a little proud that Adam appreciates the fact that he ran towards the enemy, willing to do anything Adam asked from him. He looks Adam in the eyes and asks, “What about the rest?”

Adam hums, and the sound vibrates through Tommy’s body. “I met Patrick, the previous captain of this ship when I was in a really bad place. I was mostly feral, and he kept me locked up for the first two weeks, feeding me once a day and talking to me whenever he had the time. He read books to me, too, and I… I have no idea why he saved me. He never told me. He just did. I’m glad he did, though.”

“I’m glad, too,” Tommy blurts out, then bites his lip. Him and his stupid mouth. 

Adam just pulls Tommy’s knuckles to his lips, kisses them, and continues. “I was very lucky that he found me. I would’ve died without him, without the crew. Some of my men were here back then too, and they know what they did, how they changed my life. We may be pirates, but we remember things.”

“Where did he find you?”

“A bar in Tortuga. I was their entertainment, fighting in a cage against anyone who was willing to have their throat ripped out.”

Tommy gasps. That sounds like something the gladiators did in Rome. “Whoa, really?”

Adam looks somber, then says, “Yeah, I was sold to the bar owners after killing my… I guess you could say he was my father.”

“I’m sorry,” Tommy says quietly, trying to think what else he can say. He’s lived a fairly sheltered life even if he’s had to deal with Ms. Morgan, their cruel nun-teacher. He had Isaac, and they had adventures together, and in many ways they were invincible. “Did you have anyone back then? Any friends? Family?”

Adam laughs, and this time, it hurts Tommy’s ears. Adam sounds bitter, cruel, angry, like he’s never felt anything good in his life. “I had Ian. I was sixteen, and I was a part of a gang of robbers, but I fell in love and it was the best time of my life.” Adam is quiet for a long time, then adds, “Why am I even telling you all this?”

“Because I don’t matter. If you want to get rid of me you can just throw me overboard. I’m easy.” Tommy grins. “Or because I’m making you feel good. Pick either one, maybe both.”

Adam just stares at him, then rolls on top of Tommy and bites his nose gently. “You’re impossible,” he says close to Tommy’s lips, and that makes Tommy snicker. He loves this teasing side of Adam. 

“I’m just curious and interested and… kind of grateful.” Tommy hides from Adam’s gaze by closing his eyes. 

“And why is that?” Adam asks, his voice nothing but a purr. It sends a shiver down to Tommy’s core. 

“Because I’ve never been allowed to ask anything. Questions got my fingers broken once. You’re much nicer than most people I’ve known.”

Adam kisses Tommy’s eyelids one by one, then says, “Your standards are terribly low if I’m nice.”

Tommy laughs, but doesn’t say anything. He’s still hiding from Adam’s eyes so he feels relatively safe. 

“So, ask me anything then. I won’t break your fingers for it.”

Adam is heavy on top of him even though he’s putting most of his weight on his elbows and knees. It grounds Tommy, makes him feel like he can’t float away, can’t disappear, like he’s allowed to be here. “Who was Ian, and what happened to him?”

“He was… a dreamer. He was constantly telling me he wanted to have his own farm, and soon it became our farm and our animals and our house. He didn’t even realize how it sounded. I’d never had anyone including me in their plans. So naturally, I fell for him, and he… had no idea. We were both part of that murdering, stealing, fear-mongering gang, but he was just above all that, not getting affected by any of it. I couldn’t understand him at all. I was so angry all the time, so frustrated. I hated everything and everyone, and he just kept waltzing through it all.” 

Adam moves a bit lower, rests his head on Tommy’s chest, and says, “I actually beat him up once because he kept poking at parts that I thought were dead already. I didn’t even know I could want someone. I always thought that the part of me that could’ve felt something for another person died when Leland killed my family.”

“Who’s Leland?” Tommy asks, and because he feels brave he strokes Adam’s hair. It seems to be the right thing to do because Adam relaxes even more. 

“The leader of the murderous group. They went from village to village and killed and raped people, sometimes in that order. They burned down my village, took the children with them, and taught us to hate. That’s where I got to know Ian.” 

Tommy threads his fingers through Adam’s hair, massages his scalp, and then just vibrates with warmth because he feels important. It’s a strange feeling, but he welcomes it gladly. 

“Ian convinced me of a better future. We planned everything to the smallest detail: how we’d escape, where we’d go, how we’d get there, and what we’d do once there. None of it mattered.” Adam buries his face in Tommy’s shirt. “Leland found out about us even though we were so careful. He caught us having sex, pulled us out into the open, and forced me to watch when he raped and killed Ian.” 

Tommy feels cold, goose bumps forming on his skin. There’s a lump in his throat, and he can’t say anything, can’t think of anything to say that could make this better. He holds Adam tighter and just breathes with Adam. 

“I’m sorry if that’s too morbid,” Adam says then, and he sounds unaffected. 

“I wanted to know,” Tommy whispers. “I wanted you to tell me. I can take it.”

Adam finds Tommy’s hand, links their fingers, and says, “He slashed Ian’s throat, and I promised him he’d suffer the same fate. I watched him tear apart the person I loved… I watched…”

“And then you killed him.”

“Took me seven months, but yeah… I killed him with my bare hands.”

Tommy grabs Adam’s hair, lifts his head up, and looks at him right in the eyes. “You couldn’t have done more.”

Adam scoffs, his lip curling. “I always said: ‘Let’s wait a little while longer’. He wanted to leave; I was too afraid to go. The Hell you know is better than the Hell you don’t know. I wanted to be sure we’d get out. I wanted to be sure that we’d have enough money. I wanted to be sure that the weather was just right. I was constantly questioning everything. And that got him killed. Leland kept his head, and showed it to me whenever he felt like I needed to be reminded of my place, of what would happen to me if I tried to find something for myself. I was supposed to be his property, no one else’s.”

Tommy wants to ask what that means, but he’s too stunned and too afraid to know more so he settles for holding Adam. 

“Yeah, so that’s what happened, and that’s why I don’t like having you here.” Adam doesn’t sound cruel, but the words twist Tommy’s heart anyway, make him vulnerable because the space between them has been open and safe, and now it isn’t. 

He doesn’t understand the sudden change in the way Adam feels to him, and he wonders if he struck a nerve, if the whole conversation somehow broke the fragile connection that has been building between them.

Adam sees the pain on his face, the way it turns to anger faster than should be possible but Tommy is hellfire and temperament wrapped in one fierce person. Before he can fight his way out of the situation, though, Adam takes hold of his face, puts a thumb under his chin and says, “You remind me of him. You make me feel.” Like that explains anything.

Adam stares at Tommy for a short while, then moves lower and bites Tommy’s nipple through the shirt, too hard for him to mean it to be good. 

Why he does that is beyond Tommy, but it makes him yelp in surprise, makes him swat at Adam’s head, his anger evaporating because holy fuck, _pain_.

Adam just captures Tommy’s hands, and does it again, biting even harder, licking the tip of the nipple, too. 

Tommy tries to wiggle away from under Adam, but Adam won’t let him. It’s a painful attack on sensitive skin, and Tommy feels tears at the corners of his eyes. He’s getting hard, too, and that is just unfair. 

“You like it,” Adam breathes out, staring at Tommy in amazement. “All the rough stuff. All of it.”

“Maybe,” Tommy whispers, feeling mortified about his betraying body.

It seems to be a revelation to Adam, Tommy admitting that what Adam does - pretty much whatever he does - makes Tommy want him even more. “But you like this too,” Adam says, then kisses Tommy softly, the touch so gentle it slows everything down between them, and Tommy lets Adam lick into his mouth like it’s the only thing that matters in the entire world. 

It leaves Tommy breathless, and when Adam pulls back, Tommy follows, trying to keep kissing Adam. He hates himself a little for it, but he can’t stop trying to get closer to Adam.

“Yeah, you _are_ easy,” Adam says, but there’s fondness in his voice, and Tommy knows that no matter what Adam says or how indifferently he acts, he cares. 

“I’m only easy for you,” Tommy blurts out, and none of that is meant for Adam’s ears. _Shit_. He looks at Adam, daring him to mock him.

Adam jerks back a little, looking surprised, then says, “You better be.” And it comes out jealous and needy, and Tommy is sure Adam didn’t mean to say that either.

That brings a stupid hopeful smile to Tommy’s face, the kind he can’t hide, and Adam tries to kiss it off his lips. He succeeds when his tongue finds Tommy’s, and all Tommy can do is concentrate on kissing back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't even apologize anymore for the lateness. I'm just glad when I've finished the whole story. Hopefully in the very near future. :) I hope it doesn't suck. I loved writing it, and I adore these characters, but writing is really really really hard for me at the moment. That's why it takes me forever to update. <3
> 
> This was betaed by the ever patient @aislinntlc. Thank you, dear.


	8. Chapter 8

The dawn is bright and  
My perception is open wide  
You know you flooded my senses  
What you inspire is a feeling I can't describe  
Forgotten all my defences

You were a beam of light  
Lit up my broken sky  
There was just something about you, ooh  
I had a vision and you painted the world for me  
And now I'm staying beside you

I don't need to wander any more  
I have found what I've been looking for  
I don't need a map to know the way  
I don't need a map to tell me where I'm at

Map by Adam Lambert

In Charlestown, Tommy falls on his ass the moment he sets foot on solid ground, because well… solid ground. The men laugh at him, kicking him playfully as they walk by, and he sits there, trying to swallow his embarrassment.

Boots stop in front of him, and a hand with a ring on each finger is shoved close to his face. Tommy looks up, sees Adam’s hard face melt into a smile, and he takes that hand and lets Adam pull him to his feet. This time, he can keep his balance. 

They are going back to see Mrs. Cunningham, and Tommy is starting to suspect she might be the reason why Adam knew exactly which route the merchant ship had chosen to sail. They have something for her, something Monk is carrying in a wooden box.

Adam stays close by, their arms brushing every now and then, and Tommy can feel his warmth. It’s weird and a little breath-taking. 

Everything has changed between them since that morning spent talking about secrets, about past lives and lost loves. Tommy is not just a slave to his master anymore even though he doesn’t yet know what he is now. He just knows that Adam treats him differently and keeps him close, like he doesn’t want to give anyone an opportunity to steal Tommy away from him. The crew has noticed, too, but wisely, they haven’t said anything. 

Still, when Adam’s hand curls around Tommy’s, it sends a shock through Tommy’s body. He tries to pretend that it was nothing, but his heart is beating double-time, and his skin turns clammy where Adam is touching him. 

The market around them is noisy, the animals and people excited about the new day, but all Tommy can concentrate on is Adam’s breaths, the gravel under their feet, and the way Adam holds onto him like a life line. 

Once they reach the white stone house, there’s nothing left of Tommy’s brain. He’s all nerves and little bursts of heartache. 

Adam lets go of him to knock on the door, and there they wait for Gilbert, the butler. 

Gilbert is as friendly with Adam as he was the first time, and when they finally meet the lady of the house, they’ve had their stomachs filled and the worst of the grime wiped off their hands, feet, and faces. 

Tommy is still wary because Mrs. Cunningham is dressed in all white and the carpet in the tea room is light green with blue and pink flowers giving it sparks of color, and Tommy, he’s just filthy. 

The others don’t seem to care, though, finding places to sit and stand while waiting for their captain to do his business. 

Mrs. Cunningham looks at Tommy from head to toe and says to Adam, “I’m pleased to see that he’s still here.”

Adam gives a courtly nod, but Tommy feels him stiffen next to him. He wants to think it’s because Adam is offended on his behalf. 

Adam sits at the table and pulls Tommy next to him. The porcelain cup that is placed in front of Tommy is the most scary object he’s ever seen. It brings back memories of their nun teacher and the tableware they needed to keep in immaculate shape. The punishment for not managing to do so was to stand barefoot on broken glass as long as it took for her to write a letter. She was not a fast writer.

His hands shake when he picks up the cup and some tea spills on his pants. It burns, but he bites his lip to keep in the whine of pain. He’s not going to mess this up for Adam. 

“So, did you manage to acquire the next item on the list?” Mrs. Cunningham asks, holding a teacup in one hand and the saucer in another. 

Adam waves Monk over, takes the wooden box from him, and places it carefully on the table. When he opens it, Tommy leans closer, peaking in. There is a silver teapot inside the box, and under it, there’s something bloody wrapped in a napkin. 

Mrs. Cunningham gasps, tears in her eyes. “Thank you.” She takes the teapot from Adam and holds it in front of herself, looking at it like she can’t believe it’s there. She finally tears her eyes off it and looks at Adam. “Not a scratch.” She sounds breathless. 

“I did my best.” Adam takes the bloody cloth and what’s inside it and hands it to Mrs. Cunningham. She sets the pot carefully on the table and takes it, looking reverent. “You found one of them?”

Adam nods, his face solemn. 

Tommy is confused by now, but he’s guessing Adam is looking for stolen goods, and she is paying him with information. 

She reveals the item hidden in the napkin, and Tommy holds his breath. It’s a finger with a ring still on it. “This was one of them, yes,” she says, and Tommy sees the scary side of this lady again. Her eyes burn like coals, her face twisting in hatred, and he wonders what happened to her. 

They don’t stay long after that, and the few good men who can behave themselves are taken to the Hawk and Buckle to be entertained. Tommy wants to follow them, but Adam takes his hand and says, “Come. I want to show you something.”

Tommy follows Adam, his stomach full of nervous tingles. 

They walk through alleys and a few gardens, then climb up a hill and finally they are in a clearing, staring at the port and the ships there. Tommy can easily recognize the Hellborn because of her black paint and agile shape. She’s a fast ship. 

Adam pushes Tommy right to the edge, but holds onto him, his arms wrapping around Tommy’s middle. Adam’s warmth against Tommy’s back is strange, but so good he can barely breathe. 

“I need to know if you want to stay,” Adam says, his words ghosting over Tommy’s skin. “I know you want to be a pirate, but I want you to stay because you want to. With us. With me. I could recommend you to any of the other captains here. I would let you go.”

He could leave. That would mean no more complicated feelings. He would be the master of his own destiny again, like when he decided to escape the orphanage after Isaac died. Then again, his life has never been this exciting. “I’m staying,” Tommy says, and there’s no doubt in his voice.

“We live a dangerous life,” Adam says, his lips soft against Tommy’s ear. It tickles. 

“If it’s up to me I won’t die, I promise.” 

Adam sighs. “You can’t promise that.”

“I have a better chance at surviving with you guys because you care about me.” He smiles. He knows his reasoning overrules Adam’s. “Besides, I’ve never been sheltered. At least with you I know the threat would come from the outside world.” 

“I’m a terrible man, Tommy.”

He laughs, can’t keep it in. “You are, but I don’t mind. I think I can handle you.”

Adam turns him around in his arms, then holds his head firmly so he has to look at Adam. “I’m unforgiving. Don’t cross me.”

Tommy holds his breath for a second, then says, “I said I can handle you. I handled you when I was practically your slave. I’ll handle you when I’m your equal.”

“You are,” Adam says, his eyes feverish. 

“I know.”

Adam looks shocked, then kisses Tommy breathless because that’s the thing to do when there are no words left. Tommy’s knees give in, but Adam holds him up, forces him to take it all and then some more. It feels like a seal for their deal, and it makes Tommy scared. He’s signing his life away, giving it to Adam and his crew, and he’ll die on that ship one day. He hopes it’ll happen later, far in the future when it can’t hurt Adam anymore. 

When Adam is satisfied, and Tommy is rubbing himself off on Adam’s thigh, Adam pulls back, doesn’t let Tommy come and ignores his complaints when he takes Tommy’s hand again and starts pulling him towards the town. 

Tommy is irritated, but when he sees where Adam is taking him he’s speechless. He’s seen the marks on Adam’s skin, but he’s never asked about them. Tattoos. 

It’s a tiny shop in a dark alley, and it looks more like someone’s living room than a tattoo parlor. Nevertheless, there is an old fat man ready with his needles to puncture Tommy’s skin. 

“Do you want it?” Adam asks. “It can get infected in this heat.”

Tommy nods. He wants Adam’s mark. 

It hurts like hell, the needles tied together puncturing his skin as deep as it’s needed for the color to stick. The color is a mix of gunpowder and ink, and in time, it’ll fade to dark grey rather than stay black. He’s not fond of this type of pain, but Adam is standing next to him, holding Tommy’s skin as tight as possible for the tattoo artist, smiling like he can’t believe Tommy is really doing this for him.

What Tommy doesn’t expect is Adam taking the same mark: AT inside a heart. There’s Ian’s name and his death year tattooed to Adam’s skin so Tommy is happy to be there too: the living proof of things changing. 

Once the tattoos are done and Adam has paid for them, they leave in silence. Tommy can’t stop glancing at the tattoo on his left wrist. It means more to him than any words ever could. 

They don’t go to the Hawk and Buckle where everyone else is but back to the ship. The crew members who are still on it stay out of their way, and Adam leads Tommy straight to his cabin. 

There’s a huge bath tub in the middle of the floor where the table usually is. Someone has pushed it out of the way to the back of the cabin. 

Tommy is all up for this, and he’s taking his clothes off before Adam has even closed the door properly. He dips his fingers in to see how hot the water is, and when he finds it suitable he steps in and sits down, leaning back, a huge smile on his face. 

“I love seeing you happy,” Adam says after a while. He’s crouching next to the tub, his arms resting against the side of it. 

Tommy closes his eyes, humming. 

A soft washcloth startles Tommy as it touches his stomach, but Adam shushes him, and he relaxes again, not opening his eyes. 

“You’re beautiful,” Adam says, his voice a little rough. 

Tommy lets Adam wash his arms, his thighs, his calves and finally feet, and then Adam throws away the cloth. He picks up another one, even softer, and uses it to clean Tommy’s face. It’s so intimate Tommy holds his breath, holds the silence, too. 

“Thank you for letting me mark you,” Adam says, the words whispered in Tommy’s hair. 

“Always,” he whispers back. 

Adam kisses Tommy’s temple. “I think we’re a little insane.”

Tommy laughs. “Yeah…”

“And I think I need you.” Those words are so heartbroken, they twist Tommy’s insides. 

“It’s okay,” Tommy breathes out. 

Adam trails his hand down Tommy’s chest and stomach, reaching his cock but not touching it. He pushes his hand between Tommy’s thighs, finds his hole, pressing a finger inside him. “Don’t let me hurt you, okay?”

Tommy tries to think, tries to find the right words, but all that comes out of his mouth is: “Okay.”

Adam starts pulling his finger out, then pushes it back in. He does it so many times, Tommy has to grab his hand, dig his nails in, and say, “I’ll come if you continue.”

“Good.” Adam adds another finger, and Tommy whimpers, lifting his ass up, riding Adam’s fingers. The oil from this morning is almost enough to make it easy. Otherwise, he’s just so relaxed, his own muscles let Adam in, let him add a third finger. 

Adam’s mouth is against his ear, whispering. Tommy can’t understand the words, but they sound like soft promises.

Adam’s fingers are relentless and demanding, and they drive Tommy over the edge, make him come untouched. “Good boy,” Adam whispers in his ear, but doesn’t pull his fingers out, just keeps them in. 

After a while, the feeling of fullness becomes too much, and Tommy starts to squirm. 

“Hold still,” Adam says, “I want to wait until you can come again.”

Tommy turns to look at Adam, their faces so close all Tommy has to do is tilt his face and they’d be kissing. “As many times as I can?”

Adam smiles. 

Tommy can do that. He can do anything Adam asks of him. And he does. Adam makes him come three more times, and after that Tommy is so sensitive he’s almost crying every time Adam moves his fingers in any way. 

He’s boneless when Adam lifts him out of the tub, wraps him into a huge towel and carries him to bed. There, Adam lies on his stomach next to him, and brushes Tommy’s hair off his face. 

“What happened to Mrs. Cunningham?” Tommy finally asks after Adam has petted him for a long time.

“Bandits raided her house after her husband died. She hired me a few years ago to find everything that went missing back then and also to bring her any recognizable parts of the people who hurt her. She nearly died in the attack.” 

“That’s horrible,” Tommy says, thinking about all the ways she could’ve been hurt. 

“They thought she was weak and took advantage of her situation, but they know nothing about the wrath of a woman. She’s patient, and she will eventually get what she wants.” Adam trails Tommy’s cheekbone with his forefinger, then finds his jawline. “She’s under our protection now, and she provides us useful information. We keep the goods; she gets her things back.”

“You do a lot of strange things.”

Adam smiles a wicked smile. “We’re pirates.”

“And I’m one of you now?”

Adam cups Tommy’s face, holds his mouth open with a finger on his chin. “You’re mine now. And my crew is yours.”

The Hellborn is his home. That thought chokes him up because he’s never had a home before, nothing of his. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Thank you for staying.” Adam kisses Tommy’s open mouth, his tongue full and strong when it invades Tommy, and he accepts it gladly, gives as much as he’s getting.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me forever, but it's finally done. :) And I managed to feel every bit of it so it should be what I wanted it to be. I hope you like it too. Thank you for reading this story. 
> 
> @aislinntlc betaed this chapter and suggested some great changes. Oh, how I love English and learning more about it everyday. <3 Thank you, bb for this journey. *hugs*


End file.
